The Sounds
by EverythingAtOnce
Summary: Everything was perfect. She was perfect. Her life was perfect. Since when did she start making so many mistakes? She barely knew what anything sounded like anymore...
1. Forgotten

**Okay, so first things first: HAPPY NEW YEAR! You survived 2013! Now all you need to do is survive 2014... Sheesh, I swear this year has been a breeze! It was so fast!**

**Anyway, I know this is a little late, but I really wanted to do a Christmas story. And no, this isn't all about Christmas. Christmas is really only mentioned briefly-it's not my main attraction for this bad boy here... ;D**

**I hope you enjoy what I've got so far!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Alvin and the Chipmunks.**

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Gazing out the ice cold glass, which almost seemed fragile enough to crack with just one touch, Brittany, finally exhaled the breath she'd been holding in, as it fogged up the glass, making her purse her lips together. She could only stare. What was she waiting for _anyway? _She snickered, and crossed her arms. She was being absolutely _ridiculous! _

It was around the time of winter, in the month of December. But December already had faded fast, down to the last day, and yet it still hadn't snowed yet, but it was going to, soon. She could feel it in the air, and she just knew that it would only be a matter of time when the first snow fall would come. The days had been slowly dying away quicker, taking the bright sun with it as the once bright blue sky would darken, and small bright lights would light up the night, dancing around the moon, while it shined down on everything like a big spotlight.

Time had swiftly been fading away, and all she had been trying to do was save it, hang on to it, but it always would find a way to slip out. She just didn't know how to hang on anymore.

What was happening to her? This was driving her _insane! _She was totally losing it. She would've loved to rip out all of her precious little strands of hairs that stuck to her head—but, due to the fact that doing that would make it impossible for her to even stand looking at herself in the mirror, she kept her poise. She knew better than to deform herself; that was just so not…cute…

She couldn't help but shudder at the image. _Her, _being _BALD? _Ha, yeah, not in a million years!

Every day had been getting colder and colder, and all she would do—no, _could_ do—was look out the boring window, ice blue eyes hoping to see a familiar figure walk down that ghostly sidewalk, bringing back the sounds. Of course there was plenty of annoying freaky noises that echoed throughout the house she lived in—but they weren't what she liked to hear. Things such as laughter and screaming and shouting were now becoming so vague to her. They were only a distant memory she could barely even remember. She wasn't even sure if she knew how to do these things anymore.

Obviously, there was only one thing—one _person_—one _idiot_—she could blame all of her problems on: _him._

She couldn't believe how dumb he had to be. Just because he owned the name he had didn't mean he needed to go strutting down every red carpet holding that cocky grin she so badly wanted to rip right off his precious little face and shred into tiny little pieces. Just because he now was some _hotshot_ (with no life or respect) didn't mean he needed to go spread his fire.

It was so, ugh…_boring _in the house she lived in. How was she supposed to call this giant mansion _home?_ Everything was just so…quiet. In fact, it was a little too quiet for her taste. The silent drove her insane. At times she actually _swore_ that she was actually going _deaf_—or that she could hear someone breathing, only to figure out, it was her own breath she would hear. It chilled her to the bones every night to go to sleep alone in the empty house; and it wasn't the fact that she was alone that scared her, it was the emptiness. Every bit of sound that once echoed throughout the house when he was there haunted her. _And she hated every second of it._

She loved to think of him—because when she thought of him, she'd imagine herself giving his sweet little face a grand punch in the face! Other than that though, she hated to think of him. Thinking of him made her furious. And despite the stupid little fact that that was the closest and only way she could ever get close to the real thing of having him actually be there and be the ghost he's now become to her, she continued to hate him, and thinking of him, and every little thing about him with every drop of blood that ran in her veins.

She heaved out a sigh and crossed her arms, tapping her fingers.

Sure, since he's at the top of the list, and everybody wants to meet him now _so _did _not _mean he would get the luxury treatment from her.

To her, it seemed that everything he ever cared about and valued most all went down the drain while fame and fortune rained all around and took over his life completely, fully consuming him. She had to roll her eyes. What was she talking about? That was all he EVER _cared _about. Him have value and respect for her? Ha, that was the biggest, fattest, lie she ever heard. Either she's having a really awesome dream where everything she wanted was coming true, or she's having a terrible nightmare which is more likely because her reality sadly WAS a living heck.

As she exhaled, her breath fogged up the glass. She closed her eyes, and turned away from the window. Why did she bother doing this anyway? Why was she waiting? Why was she watching for him? Waiting was wasting her time. Time was making changes to her. And these changes were impossible to reverse. Her eyes snapped open.

He obviously hated her guts or something. But either way, if he did hate her so badly, they were even because she hated him, too. But to be fair, he had no reason to hate her while she had every single reason to hate him. He was practically _ruining_ her. Her life…her time…her health…her mind—just everything—he was ruining everything. She used to have everything. She was on top of the world…they used to be on top of the world. They were burning bright…and they were burning hot. They were hotter than the sun. But now what were they? Were they even considered a "we" or "us" or "they" anymore? Or was it all _me, myself _and _I, _now?

She could barely tell. Everything they ever were, all that they ever had…it was all gone now. And if there was still a small spark left, well, it would be going out soon, that's for sure.

Suddenly her legs began to walk and carry her throughout her home. She had her enormous home down to the arts now; she knew every corner and turn and step that built up the mansion all because that was all she could do: wander. She already sucked dry every bit of entertainment out of every magazine and chick-flick she could get her hands on. Of course, her beauty care never got old, but it never lasted forever either.

No matter how many times she tried to take her time—in fact, take as much time humanly possible—she still had the rest of the _afternoon_, and not to mention the rest of the _evening_, to die her day out.

Every year it was like this. It used to not, but time was cruel to her and made changes she once saw and thought as great, now horribly wretched.

In the beginning it was pure joy to her. He would be gone half the time, and she'd be able to enjoy spending time with peace and quiet all to herself. Oh how she had never been so mistakenly _wrong! _Who knew how terrible company things like peace and quiet could bring? They were absolutely dreadful. They bored her to death. And if she was seeing right, it seemed as if peace was luring her down into its traps where the deadly silence was waiting to steal her breath away from her forever…

But she wasn't dumb…unlike _some _people. She wasn't going to let herself drown in what she once thought was worth more than gold. She was too smart for that. Although, for him, she wasn't quite so sure what to say…and she didn't CARE.

_Why _would she help him, anyway? He clearly didn't care about her.

Too many winters had passed by where he wasn't there. He was never around anymore. She couldn't remember the last time he's spent Christmas—or Valentine's Day—or any other holiday—with her in _person _for the past five years! Sure, he sent her dainty little wimpy gifts through mail that probably would've cost any other ordinary person a fortune, but how much now did she actually care about the gifts?

She practically begged him this year—she literally _BEGGED _him to come home this year and at least spend _Christmas _with her. And what did he say? "Oh yeah, sure thing, babe…" only to call back a few days later after her joy and success started to sink in and say, "Sorry, Britt, I can't." It hurt so bad to have her only desire get ripped away from her. _She tried so hard_…merely to figure out she was only fooling herself. She made the biggest fool of herself and she never had ever felt so _humiliated. _

She didn't feel embarrassed because Karl, her butler, saw every bit of respect and dignity she had go down in flames. She wasn't embarrassed because she let Alvin hear her do the one thing she never would do to his own amusement (unless it was truly necessary). She was embarrassed because she let her _own_ guard down, and she made the big fool in front of _herself. _She let herself have so much hope for something that she knew was too good to be true. She let herself fall…and she didn't catch herself. She wasn't there to catch herself because she was relying on _him_ so much…

_How long ago was it when she actually relied on herself?_

_Since when did she need to rely on someone else?_

_Why in the world did she ever stop relying on herself?_

_When did he somehow become someone better to rely on other than herself?_

_What happened?_

She was perfectly fine relying on herself. Everything about her was better when she relied on herself. She was strong…since when did she become so _weak…_?

How could she let herself forget about _herself?_

Shouldn't she be her first priority? The answer to that she didn't even need to blink to think about it. The answer obviously was: yes. Duh, of course she _herself _should be her number one priority.

Didn't she know that relying on him meant forgetting about herself?! Gosh, she felt so _stupid! _And here she was thinking _he _was being the big idiot! Which he was…he _was_ the big idiot…he was the biggest of them all. In fact, he held the world record!—but for her? Where did that put her? That put her right below him. And for once in her life, she was glad she actually _wasn't _number one. But she was still second, and she was on the list of stupidity; and she used to not even be near or close to being on this list.

This had to be, by far, the most dreadful thing of all. She shook her head abruptly. Nope, just kidding—it was the second. The most horrid thing of all was: forgetting herself.

Her legs came to a sudden halt. When her eyes finally focused to her surroundings, she found herself in her bedroom. Not his, _hers._

When her ice cold gaze peered up, it got stuck. It got trapped like a mouse in a mousetrap on a particular photograph that hung on the wall next to others. Seeing this photo nearly made her hand rip her own heart out. And that's when she realized that the most wretched thing of all wasn't her forgetting herself…that was the _second _most wretched thing.

The most treacherous thing she's ever done was…marry him.

Her teeth gritted together as if they were trying to bite through a brick and she heaved out a sigh as her eyes had a deadly staring contest with the photograph of him and her together at the location he proposed to her.

_Why did she marry HIM again? Oh, that's right, because she said "Yes" when he proposed!_

Because of _him _she completely forgot about herself! Because they got married, it caused her to vow herself away to him. And the worst part about this was that this happened without her even _knowing _this was happening.

She was once so perfect…but now she was drowning in all of her mistakes…

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**Okay, so, this is really kind of just like a prologue...but, what'd you think? Do you like it so far? **

**Review and tell me what you think please! :D**

**Thanks so much for taking the time to read this! **


	2. Off with It

**Thank you all for the reviews! I'm glad that this story is sparking some interests. And, I would've probably updated this sooner, but, my lovely, precious school just had to explode in my face with all of these tests that I had to waste my time studying! ;D Exciting, _right?!_**

**Oh, and this story will mainly stick to Brittany's 3rd point of view.**

**Read on, I hope you enjoy! :D**

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Brittany huffed, lounging on _her _bed, not his—_hers_—and stared at the photograph hanging on the wall. She ripped her gaze away. Why was she staring at him again? She was wasting her time.

Sighing, she brought herself up and off the bed, marching to the door. She _had _to do _something _with her life other than curse that _jerk_ with every drop of blood that ran through her veins. And that was just what she was going to. She was going to do something that didn't consist, or have to do _anything _with him in it. She was going to do something to indulge herself.

After all, she _did _deserve the best—yet she wasn't even treating her own SELF to the best—which was exactly why she was going to change that.

She already had her manicure done the other day, so that was out. She already treated herself to a major shopping spree that consisted of her getting a whole entire brand new closet (of course she only kept the things she absolutely _adored _and made her look absolutely _gorgeous_)—the clothing that used to be in her closet she already had worn at least once and they were already getting _old. _So she did what any other normal person would do: throw them needed to have _new _and in _fashion. _It was a total disgrace to herself if she wore clothing that was SO last season…

Suddenly, she perked up getting an ingenious idea.

She rushed out of her room and to the grand stairwell that lead down to the entrance.

"Karl!" she hollered, calling to her butler. Okay, technically he originally wasn't _her _butler, but because she preferred him over all of the other servants and maids that roamed her house doing who knows what, he pretty much became her favorite of them all and therefore: became her personal butler.

"Yes, Miss Brittany?" An old, frail man appeared at the bottom of the stairs, dressed nicely in a black suit, his belly slightly a potbelly.

She couldn't help but grin. Gosh, she _loved _to hear him speak because since he had such a formal, proper way of talk and he had a slight British accent, every single time he spoke he made her feel like royalty. There was something about his British accent or _something_ because he always had this way of making her feel of some importance—like a queen. The way he treated her was worthy enough to be a servant at a palace.

The other servants and maids that worked in her home were just _brats._

_ ESPECIALLY _the maids—the _girls… _These, _ugh_, girls (she wasn't even sure whether they deserved to be called girls!—she preferred to call them beasts…yes, that was what she would call them from now on) that worked were such a disgrace to the female race! Brittany could hardly keep her composure straight without wanting to slap—no, _punch_—one of the maids and break their precious little faces! Now that could actually be something for her to do…

She shook her head. She wasn't going to bruise, or ruin her hands on these filthy, wretched beasts.

Oh and these _beasts—ugh—_they obviously weren't born with a _brain _because somehow, in their mind they think her, Brittany, as dumb or something…

More than a THOUSAND times she's caught one of these _beasts _trying to flirt with _her _man. He had a ring, she had a ring…put one and one together and what do you get—oh!—_marriage! _But obviously these beasts didn't see that he was, regretfully, already _hers. _These beasts that roamed her house did not—absolutely _did not_—know how to keep their filthy, dirty, hideous hands to themselves… And maybe if they were _nice _to her and treated her better, she might actually consider allowing them to get manicures at her favorite place as her treat to them—but _no…_

One time, when she was wandering her house looking for one of her favorite pairs of earrings—and she knew she set them down somewhere; she knew they didn't fall on the ground and run away from her—she passed Alvin's game room (and she still didn't know why she let him have one; it was a waste of space). And the door was luckily ajar, and when she peered in because her guts told her to, she caught one of those beasts hitting on her man! Seriously, this beast was getting so _close_ to him—too close for her liking. And when she burst in, this _beast's freaking FACE _was a good inch away from Alvin's.

She wasn't sure whether or not he was being stupid, or blind—but either way, she wasn't going to let anything happen whatsoever. She could easily tell what this beast was aiming for, and was she going to let this beast get what it wanted? _Heck NO! _What she was going to do though was give this beast a piece of her mind—which it wasn't very pretty. And for Alvin? What would she do with him? WELL, that part was simply easy: she was going to kill him; then murder him; then kill him.

So, when she told this beast off, that's when she discovered that this particular beast was _wearing _her _poor, precious _EARRINGS! Now it was one thing for this beast to go try and contaminate its filthy lips on her man, and it was a whole other thing for this beast to go and contaminate her earrings—not to mention her _favorite _pair!

In the end, she ended up firing this beast (even though she really wanted to have its head off with) and throwing away her poor darling earrings…but that was okay. She'd bought these earrings online, so she was able to order a new pair.

Although, as much what the beast did to her earrings and tried to do to Alvin was a fairly bold move, that wasn't the thing that ticked her off the most. What got under her skin was the fact that she wasn't even sure whether that _jerk,_ who didn't deserve the name he had, was going to let that beast kiss him or not! She still had no clue…

Brittany shook her head. But she didn't care about him anymore. He was out of the picture.

It was all about her now.

"Karl," she whined, "what can I do?" She hung herself over the fancy hand carved railings that glistened with gloss, dramatically bringing her hand to her forehead. "I can't think of _anything! _I've done practically everything possible!"

Oh, and another reason why she liked Karl so much was because he had wisdom she actually could respect and he actually didn't creep her out unlike the other servants that roamed her house touching probably, mainly _her _things. Ugh, perverts they were… In truth, she didn't trust any of the servants or beasts in the beginning. And when she first saw Karl, she wasn't too fond of him due to his frail age… He was so old. And old people tend to carry this strong, weird old-people-smell around with them… If possible, she could suffocate from the toxicities.

But, when Karl first spoke to her, something clicked. Everything changed from black to white. And the more and more he spoke to her, the more she began to accept him and actually _like _him. She does now _actually_ consider Karl to be part of her family. He treats her so well. He's so fine to her. Everything he does is just perfect for her. He was probably one of the only people she actually had _respect_ for, along with, of course, Ms. Miller…and her sisters most of the time…

"Well," her butler spoke with such fineness, "have you ever considered, perhaps, watching a movie?"

She perked up at this. It had been a while since she touched the movies that were neatly organized on the shelf in her room… She rarely even touched the big screen TV that practically posed for her each morning she aroused; she never even gave it a second glance. It kind of was just there and soon became some sort of antique decoration.

A small smile crept upon her lips. "Karl…you are a GENIUS!" she praised. "You know you almost could be as smart as Simon!"

With that stated, she bounded to her room and ran to the shelf stuffed full of movies in the corner of the room. As she scanned through the movies, her hand immediately began picking out all of the chick-flicks. Oh how it had been so _long_ since she's even _seen _these movies! She rarely saw these movies because Alvin—that little _twerp_—he'd always somehow be the one who picked out the movies. And almost _always_, they were _horror_ films. And she hated it. It was one thing to every _once in a while _watch scary films, and it was a whole other thing to _always _watch scary movies. That was just overdoing it to the extreme. And with his peanut-sized small brain, he just didn't get that memo.

She shook her head. _Why was she frying her brain over him? _She was making herself look stupid thinking about him. She needed to stop.

Her ice cold gaze peered down at the stack of movies piled in her hands. Pursing her lips, she scanned the shelves one last time and grinned when she spotted one last movie to add to her pile. She evaluated the stack, then glanced at the gold, round Victorian clock that hung not too far away from the entrance to the left. She had time.

"This should be good enough," she confirmed before heading to the DVD player. As she got the movie started, and had turned the TV on, she couldn't help but grin in triumph as the movie began. See? She didn't need him. She didn't need Alvin. She could do well off, _perfectly_ fine, on her own.

When she turned to get on her bed, she spotted Karl at her doorway. "What?" she huffed, pausing her film.

"Um, Miss Brittany, would you like me to have some popcorn popped for you, or any type of treats served while you watch?"

She opened her mouth, ready to refute his offer, but froze. Who doesn't have popcorn and goodies while they watch movies? She was watching her weight, true…but she was also treating herself to the _best_. She needed to ease and relax herself a little… Plus it had been a while since she's _had_ movie treats and she _had_ been craving them lately…

"Yes…yes! Yeah—Karl," Brittany composed her voice, "I _would_ like to have some popcorn, along with other treats." He began to leave, nodding his head, but she called quickly, "But, Karl?" He turned back to her, his white hair magnifying his rustic, old, large silver-gray eyes. "You don't have to go get me anything now. Until I'm on the last movie in that stack," she indicated with her fine milky pink painted nails, "will be when I'd like you to go get me some," she smiled.

"Yes, Miss Brittany." He bowed his head, closing her door before he left.

She opened her mouth to invite him to stay and watch with her, but she stopped herself when she noticed that it would probably make him feel uncomfortable. Plus she needed some time to herself anyway, and he probably had other things he'd rather be doing other than watching some of the best romance movies ever…

Sighing, she resumed her movie and got comfortable on her bed. This would be one long day…

* * *

"No—NO! _Don't be stupid!_" Brittany screeched, throwing some popcorn at the large TV directly across the room from her. "_NO! Don't!—_stop it! You're being ridiculous!" she shrieked in frustration. "He doesn't _love_ you!"

It was ten minutes before midnight and Brittany was finally on her last film—her favorite one—she'd saved it for last.

Her heart vigorously pounded right out of her chest, as she balled her fists, gritting her teeth, ice cold blue eyes on fire. The aroma of popcorn filled the air, and her nose flared. Well, at least this _used_ to be her favorite film. She didn't remember it being so...so…so _terrible! It was horrible! _The story plot idea was so _stupid! _What did she ever see in this _movie?_

"STOP! Stop _kissing him!" _she shouted, this time throwing her pillow across the room. "Just stop—stop letting him kiss you!" She suddenly felt the urge to vomit. She felt sick to her stomach.

The story plot idea for this movie was a classic!—big hint on the "_was_."

The film was about a girl who left her home to go live in the cities. She left everything—her family, her friends, and her best friend—who just so happened to be a guy. Then, later on, she returns back home, away from her city life, years later, and visits her best friend, but he totally treats her horribly because he's mad she never bothered to call or do anything with her family and most importantly him. So she goes back to the city all messed up—she's bawling her eyes out at work and home—and there is another guy who's been nothing but nice to her and does truly adore her…but eventually her best friend (also her, ugh, lover) comes running back to her and confesses how horribly he'd been and that he "really didn't mean to hurt her the way he did" and that "he loves her." Eventually one thing leads to another, and he stays in the city with the girl—and they get married and live happily ever after. Everything improves and brightens and the girl reaches her point of success in the city being a fashion designer and blah, blah, blah…

That was the picture. That was the picture "perfect" ending Brittany was seeing right now. And she _hated _it. It was _horrible_!

"Why _HIM?_ That other guy was so much more cuter and better and everything more than what this _slobbery JERK _is! WHY?!" she whined, devastated. How? How on earth did she ever see this movie as _great?_ She definitely must've mistaken this movie with another…

Her large ice blue eyes stared, mortified at the large TV screen displaying the girl character and the boy character locking lips. She never had ever been as _disgusted_ as she was now. She really needed a bucket or something to purge her thoughts and stomach out in!

Suddenly a small smile came to her face. "Plot twist!" her hand snatched the remote control, readying itself to stop the movie. "The boy is actually really a _vampire _and he accidently bites her head off, eating all of her body!—and then he is full of remorse with himself that he commits suicide! The end!" she clicked the _Stop _button, a wide brilliant grin on her face as the scene flashed to a channel that was on TV.

_Why couldn't the movie really end that way? _Her smile that way, both characters would get what they deserved: the girl for being so stupid and ditching the better guy for the worse guy, and the boy being just plain dumb. She shook her head. Whatever, she'd just "pretend" that's how the movie really ended…

Sighing, her ears perked up at hearing something from the channel that was on. The screen displayed a host, live, in New York for the New Year's Eve celebration.

Right, Brittany blinked. New Years. The new year to come was pretty much in a few minutes…

He eyes flashed to the round, Victorian clock hanging relentlessly on the wall.

_5 minutes._

Her light pink lips pursed into a straight line. Had she really been that distracted she barely even noticed that this day she spent watching a bunch of movies was New Year's Eve? She let out a deep sigh, her eyes trailing back to the TV screen that portrayed Times Square in New York. And that's when her eyes nearly popped right out of her sockets.

Brittany dashed out of her bed, running up to the TV screen, grabbing hold of top of the TV with wide eyes. She listened as the live camera on screen focused in on the bleach-blonde host smiling brightly with one of the "special guest stars" singing in the background.

_"So, folks, we are very lucky tonight to have the hit sensation: Alvin Seville! Originally from The Chipmunks band that he formed with his two brothers!"_

Snorting in furry, Brittany slapped the power button that was on the side of the TV. She could only stare as the once colorful screen flashed to a pitch black.

"He never told me that he was going to perform _there…!_" she grumbled, crossing her arms strictly. Her gaze hazed over to some pictures that hung on her wall—the same pictures she'd been staring at earlier that day. "So you're gonna play it _that_ way, huh, Seville?"

Brittany marched out of her room and huffed as she stepped down each step of the grand staircase covered in an adequate red carpet. With a fire guiding her to the one room she always thought as useless and a plain waste of space, her point of view changed of that room; now she saw that it actually had _one_ flaw that made it _not _as useless as she thought it was.

When she marched inside of the room, nose scrunching at the smell of his present filling her insides, and snatched what that one flaw of the room was, she huffed and marched back up the steps, heading back to her room. As she peered around her room, staring with insidious ice eyes, her eyes landed on the Victorian clock. She set down what she held in her arms and got to work.

While she began to take down the vintage-faced clock off of its hook, Karl suddenly appeared in the doorway, holding three fine-tipped darts. "Miss Brittany, I couldn't help but notice that you grabbed the dartboard out of Mr. Seville's Game Room, but not the darts, and I thought that you might need these." He presented her the darts.

She smiled, "Thank you—yes, I will need those!" And she snatched them out of his frail, gentle old hands once she finally had hung the heavy dartboard.

"Um, Miss Brittany, if you don't mind me asking, but what are you doing?" Karl asked, holding his hands behind his back as he watched with aged silver eyes.

Glancing at the clock that was now on the floor, Brittany rushed to the photos that hung on the wall on the opposite side of the room. As she reached out to one of the photos, she huffed, "Just watch…you'll see…" While she reached up on her tiptoes to reach her target, she bumped into the white side table against the wall that separated her from the photos that hung, and through her struggles a clear glass pink vase that held some dying roses began to rock. As she finally held the bottom of the framed picture she wanted, her gaze faltered down to the delicate vase as it began to topple over the edge. Immediately both her hands reached down to catch the antique glass vase, but in the end, glass shattered on the floor. But the glass that shattered wasn't the vase.

It was the picture she had tried to grab.

As she swiftly fixed the vase safely upright, making sure it would balance standing on its own, she crouched down to the photo frame that had fallen. After staring at it with her lips pursed, she shook her head and slipped the photo that was once guarded by the now broken glass, out. Staring at the photo as a whole, one last time, she began to stand and ripped the photo in half, letting one half flutter to the ground like a dead petal getting plucked off of a flower.

Quickly, she ran over to the dartboard and pinned the photo with one of the red-ended darts in her hands.

"Miss Brittany, are you sure about what you are doing?" Karl's British voice echoed and Brittany could only nod her head as she stepped away from the dartboard and turned to face it. (She couldn't help a slight small grin—that accent!—she just felt so high-ranked!)

She was sure. And she was sure that she was excited about what she was going to do. She was going to play a little game. Have some fun.

Suddenly loud bangs from outside could be heard. The fireworks were beginning, telling her the time.

Brittany began to take her aim at the ripped photo—she began to take her aim at him. At Alvin.

He was that half of the photo, and her the other half. And what was she doing? Well, she was going to throw darts at him—_and hopefully hit his stupid face!_ This was the closest she could get to hitting him. She was so furious. She was so mad at him.

If she missed with the two darts she held in her hands, well, she'd go to Plan B, and throw knives. And if she _still_ missed, well, she had some other things she could throw that were sharp…

* * *

**Okay, I don't know about you guys, but, I can totally imaging Brittany having her own butler. I don't know why, but she totally would have a butler or some sort of servant if she could. And since she's got the money, so, why not? Why not give her all of these maids and servants? ;D And, I'm trying to remember what her house looked like from the episode "Big Dreams" and all, so, try and base off the image of the house of that, or at least familiarize the image with that house...**

**Anyway, I hope you liked this chapter. And I hope I didn't disappoint you too much with this. And don't worry, Alvin will be having some words placed in soon! Like, maybe next chapter soon...I'm not sure yet. ;D**

**Please review and tell me your thoughts, and thanks so much for reading! I love seeing what you guys review! It totally gets me pumped to write more! :D**


	3. Rage

**It's amazing! I'm actually updating something almost every week! This may not seem like a huge accomplishment for some of you, but for someone like me, yeah...it's pretty big... ;D Anyway, don't mind me...read on...**

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It had only been a few days past the first day of January, and she had finally made up her mind. She was going to do it. She was going to leave.

Brittany exhaled a smooth breath past her lightly tinted lips. She closed her eyes. She kind of missed the way his lips would collide with hers… She shook her head abruptly. _No. _She didn't need him, and she certainly didn't need to go pathetically reminiscing memories of him; that was too much. That was too much for her, too much for her mind, and too much for her heart. If she kept getting too much, she'd get fat—she'd get fat, stuffed full of him—there'd be too much of him all over her and she'd have the hardest time losing him. And even though she totally could handle going through this process, why bother? It wasn't going to even last and not to mention be worthwhile to be put up in her hall of fame of memories.

She tightened her jaw and snatched her pink luggage from off the ground, stepping off the porch steps that led up to the entrance of the mansion behind her. That mansion held nothing for her.

As she continued to walk away from the mansion, the echoing sound of her heels haunted her shadow and chased after her. Her grip tightened on her luggage and when she got halfway through the empty roundabout driveway, she halted. It felt as if a thousand chains were holding her back. She couldn't budge a single step. Grunting, she huffed and turned around, the fading sky bringing in daylight that aroused from behind the mansion she once called home.

After she had stared at the enormous house for a good, long fifteen minutes, her hand dropped her suitcase.

What was she talking about? What was she _thinking? _That mansion _was _her home. She practically created it. Both she and Alvin designed it—but mostly she designed it. He really did…nothing. She could only remember him making the plans for his _precious _stupid little game room—but that didn't count as really doing _anything. _She was the one that did the interior and exterior design of this mansion. And through her fashionable knowledge, she created a masterpiece. Seriously, though, what she did to this mansion could pass off in an art museum and be worth over a trillion dollars. This mansion stood out like a beautiful pink rose in a patch of hideous black weeds—and yes, her mansion really was that magnificent compared to the other mansions in the neighborhood she lived in.

Brittany sighed and shook her head gently, pursing her lips. She…couldn't leave this mansion. She just...couldn't leave this mansion. This mansion, in truth, held everything. It held so many memories, and she wasn't going to run away. If she ran away from everything that ever happened in that mansion, what would that make her? Who would that make her be?

Running away would strip her from her name. She wouldn't be able to call herself Brittany Miller and smile confidently at the world _genuinely_. How would he see her? How would Alvin look at her? She couldn't just let him see her as _weak. _No. No way. She was going to stay, and show him what being strong was. She was going to show him that she _was_ strong—that she was stronger than him—that she was stronger than what he could _ever_ be. He was simply weak for not coming home for her; he was weak for not putting her first in fear that he'd lose his spot in fame. And she knew very well that this was true. She could be as blind as a bat and _still _see his obnoxious fear emanating off of his cocky smile.

She grabbed her suitcase and headed back to her home. The pride that now sounded off of each step she took heading back to her mansion scared off any doubt that she once had. Yeah, there was no way she was going to leave this mansion now. She was going to prove to _herself_ that she was as strong as she always believed herself to be.

Brittany shuddered at the reality that she _actually _was going to just _walk away _from her home. She couldn't believe herself; she needed to get ahold of herself. Anyway, where _would_ she live after she left her house? She bit her bottom lip and paused as she got lost in her thoughts. She didn't really plan that part out…

By the time she got to the double doors of her house, they swung open and she was greeted by her butler.

"Did you have a nice walk, Miss Brittany?"

She managed to crack a small smile. Yeah, why _did_ she ever think about leaving? She couldn't leave this—she couldn't leave what she had. "Karl, why didn't you try and stop me?" she snapped, crossing her arms.

As Karl took her luggage, he simply stated, "Because, if I recall correctly, on the contract I signed before taking this job, it said something around the lines of, 'never defile the missus of the household on her decisions or else the consequences will be to face her wrath.'"

Brittany cocked her head and began to tap her fingers against her arms, watching as her butler shut the doors. No wonder none of the servants and not to mention beasts ever spoke up around her… She couldn't help but smugly grin. She was good…dang, _she was really good_… Since when did she become so _smart? _Well, not the Simon-y-Jeanette-kind-of-smart—but the clever-kind-of-smart.

She snickered lightly before turning to her butler, "Well, Karl, it's your lucky day," she dryly laughed, "because from now on, you get the only exception to try and stop me when I, umm—well pretty much when I try and do something as stupid as leaving this house type of stupid, you have permission to try and stop me!" She grinned sweetly.

"Yes, Miss Brittany." Karl nodded his head.

"Now what are you standing there for?! Go put my suitcase back in my room!" Brittany ordered, a small smile hidden on her face. Gosh, how long did she leave this house for? If she left, everyone that worked at this mansion would be so lost without her there!

She sighed and leaned her back against the door behind her.

Now what?

Now what was she supposed to do?

Her ice cold stare dropped to her hands. She brought her right hand up into view and examined her nails. As she brought her smooth coated nails closer to her view, a small frown tugged at the edges of her lips.

_Since when did her nails start to chip? How long had her nails looked like that? Why hadn't she noticed this sooner?_

She eyed her nails, glaring harshly at them. She NEEDED to fix them. They looked _hideous. _She needed to get a new manicure or something because she would not tolerate having her nails to look so absolutely _dreadful. _

Suddenly a thought hit her.

"If my nails on my hands look this terrible," she mumbled lightly under her breath, "then my toe nails look this horrendous too!" Her eyes widened and she immediately began to take her heels off. "Oh no…oh no, no, no, no, no…" She shook her head frantically as she revealed her toenails to her sight.

This was not happening to her! No! This had to be a nightmare, for sure. It definitely couldn't be real…

Brittany let out a shriek of pure horror. Biting her bottom lip, she leaned in closer to her toe nails and began to compare them to her finger nails.

Now she was going to go murder someone. Her nails could not honestly look this _BAD._ She needed to break or throw something…

As she looked around, she spotted her heels and picked them up, ready to chuck them across the room. But in a split-second before she released her shoes to go flying off, she froze. Her eyes snapped over to her heels in her hands. What was she _doing? _She gently set her heels down in front of her and stared at them. Gritting her teeth, she straightened her posture and continued to stare down at the footwear in front of her. Did she really want to ruin these heels by throwing them?

First she had to ask herself the following questions: did she buy these heels? How much did she like these heels? What outfits did she wear these heels with other than the one she currently was wearing? How much did these heels cost? Did she like these heels a lot? How sturdy were these heels? Could they handle her throwing them across the room?

Well, really the most important question was: were these heels from him? Did he buy these shoes for her?

If Alvin did buy these shoes, then—yeah, she was definitely going to trash these heels. She could always buy herself better and much classier heels anyway…

Brittany let a frustrated puff of air out of her lungs as she continued to coldly stare down at the heels in front her. _Decisions. Decisions. Decisions…_

She shook her head.

To her own dismay, she knew these heels he didn't buy, yet she still wanted to throw them. She REALLY needed to throw _something_… such as his head… Why couldn't she just throw the darn heels?! She needed to let her steam out; if she didn't soon, she'd explode. And she didn't want to explode because that was pathetic—she'd rather lose her composure and throw something—other than have her insides kill her off. Brittany's hands began to cringe, irritated, but she quickly balled her hands tightly into a fist. (The cringing of her hands creeped her out; it reminded her of some skeleton hand.)

It was final: She wasn't going to throw these heels. They were too precious to her. She knew she'd regret it if she ruined them. She was just going to have to suck it up and not throw her heels…and she was going to have to hold her temper in.

Closing her eyes, she dared herself to take one last glance at her nails. She flinched and shot her gaze away. Okay, either she was going to have to go out and get a manicure done professionally, or she just stays home and does her own nails. Either way, whatever choice she chose, her nails would look absolutely _fabulous._

Getting off the ground, Brittany stood up tall and straight with all the pride and dignity she could muster, and snatching her heels off of the ground, she began to head her way up the grand staircase, to her room.

Frankly, she didn't want to go out. And despite how much the world needed to see some true beauty, she was just going to have to disappoint the outside world and stay inside. Plus she wanted to do her own nails anyway; she always did enjoy giving her nails a grand makeover. The art that she did with her nails always _was _a rare, high quality that she _never_ could see others compare to. So, it was settled. She'd simply fix her monstrosity nails and turn them into goddesses, therefore, easing her rage.

Brittany grinned in satisfaction as she turned into her room. She really was a genius.

Now all she needed to do was figure out what color she'd paint her nails in…

And she definitely was _not _shading her nails _red_. (And just because she wasn't shading them red didn't mean she would never ever use the color again—after all, she couldn't lie—the color looked pretty good on her…but still, the color was just momentarily on timeout for now, that's all.)

Ew, and neither was she going to smear her nails in _green_…that color was just vomit to her eyes.

* * *

Blowing at her nails, Brittany lounged on her bed, letting her back rest against the fluffy pillows that stood behind her. She grinned admiringly as she gave her hand a small fashion show. "Much better!" she sighed in relaxation, satisfied with her creation. Her hand looked _SO _much better, without a doubt!

Her gaze suddenly flickered to the mail that Karl had brought in earlier—she didn't bother with it then because she was still in the middle of her masterpiece. She wasn't going to screw up her nails just for some flat, white tree, imprinted with junk folded in an envelope! Neither was she going to bother opening the latest gossip that filled the pages in all of the new magazines for the month…even though she did enjoy knowing the latest talk that was spreading…

As she leisurely grabbed the first magazine in the pile of mail, letting the small stack of envelopes slip off, she crossed her legs and began to read—well, not really read—but skim. If the information was good, then she'd read.

Opening the new magazine to a random page, she froze. As fast as a shooting star, Brittany flipped the pages back to the cover and a small gasp escaped her lips.

"_AGAIN?!" _she screeched, staring with rage.

What displayed before her eyes, she'd seen before. And it happened two times already. _TWO freaking times. _Why couldn't the paparazzi _ever_ get her and Alvin's relationship right? Were they stupid? They always got every other famous couple right—yet for some odd reason, they never got _his _or _hers _right! It was so annoying…

She blinked her glistening ice eyes as she stared coldly at the distant image of Alvin and some random other pop star sitting together in a limousine; the image was outlined in a neon bubbled frame. Right below the image, bold highlighted words read:

_Alvin Seville and new affair? Find out more on page 64!_

She rolled her eyes, irked, but began to flip to the said page due to her own despair. _Now _what crazy "affair" was he supposedly having? And she figured it wasn't even real because this really had happened twice already. The first time it happened, she was furious—but from his own begging, and with the help of his two brothers giving their word (he got lucky his brothers even had proof), he convinced her of the truth that he spoke. This whole entire thing happened a few months after they were wedded.

The second time this happened—oh boy. It was _horrible. _She had nightmares for _five_ _months_ straight. The public thought that he, Alvin, was having a secret affair with her _sister _ELEANOR! Oh gosh, was she _raging _mad! It was one thing for the public to think he'd be out messing around with some skank, and it was a whole other story when they configured it to be with one of her _sisters! _Oh gosh, that magazine she first caught glance with the image printed enormously as the cover was history as soon as she saw it—she could barely stand to look at the image without letting out a scream. To eliminate the magazine, she simply burned it. It was absolutely disgusting! She couldn't _believe_ the public actually thought that Alvin would get together with her youngest sister! Of all the girls in the world! And all of this took place last year in May.

Now, the press was stating him to be with some other pop-star. As if…

By the time Brittany had flipped to page 64, she rolled her eyes at the first few sentences, reading the name of who this pop-star was. It made her wonder whether the public even had brains. Did they not know that this pop-star girl Alvin was with was just some carryon that joined along with him on his tour? Because the girl was a new artist, her producer asked Alvin to allow her to join him and have him show her the ropes of reaching to the top—and of course, his answer was _yes_.

As she continued to skim over the text, her gaze jumped back up at the photo. She started to feel sick. Her blood began to rush through her veins, reaching the heat of fire. She couldn't help but wonder: what if this _was_ real? What if he really was…fading away from her?

She bit her bottom lip, and as if a switch flipped, in a flash she was scowling. She didn't need him anyway. She had herself. And if things were to go down in flames, well, all she had was to blame herself. It was her own fault for letting herself go; and despite the fact that it crushing her, she wouldn't let it show. That was even more pathetic than crying.

Brittany exhaled and tossed the magazine away from her. Closing her eyes, she reopened them to examine her nails. A small smile lifted her lips. At least her nails looked fabulous…

"Miss Brittany," Karl suddenly emerged from the doorway, "you have a phone call."

Raising her eyebrows, Brittany straightened her posture and held her hand out expectantly.

As her butler came in, revealing a white telephone that was held behind his back, he set the communication device in her expectant hand. But before the frail old man could walk away, Brittany grabbed his arm with wide alarming eyes.

"Wait," she hissed, "who the _heck_ is it?"

Karl took in a deep breath before answering thoughtfully, "I believe it is the Mister, of this household." And with that said, he bowed slightly, and left her alone.

Brittany blinked, suddenly feeling stiff. She couldn't move…

After a few silent seconds passed, she forced herself to break her bones and shoved the phone up against her ears. "What do _you_ want?!" she exclaimed heatedly, shoving the mail that lay next to her out of her way so she could take a stand.

"Whoa—I missed you too, Britt," came his reply, his voice as smooth as the nail polish painted on her nails.

Scoffing, Brittany shook her head and hung up. "The _nerve _of that little—"

Suddenly the phone rang loudly in her hand.

Her eyes flashed down to the caller ID. Fuming, she took the call and sweetly masked her voice, "I'm sorry, the number you have called no longer exists." And she hung up, her face plain.

Huffing out loudly, the phone instantly began to ring. Sighing dramatically, she pursed her lips and began to pace herself around her room. "Do you not get what 'this number no longer exists' _means?"_ she growled in frustration, tightening her grip on the phone.

"Look, Brittany, I don't know what I did to make you mad—"

"'—but I'm sorry,'" she mimicked, rolling her eyes. Yeah, she's _definitely_ never heard _that _one before.

"No—I wasn't going to say that—I was going to say: get a hold of yourself!"

Brittany's face scrunched in fury, and she walked around her room faster. "Listen to me, you little _punk_, don't you _dare_ ever tell me that! Get a hold of myself? _Get a hold of myself?!_" she shrieked into the phone. "Why don't _you _get a hold of yourself!"

"Okay, I really don't know what I did to make you this mad, babe—but listen to me: stop walking and take a breather." He ordered, breathing deeply into the phone.

It was clear to her that he was trying to stay calm. Now that was something she'd like to see him try to do.

"You're going to give yourself a heart attack," he joked.

She halted in her steps and ripped the phone away from her ears. Did he think this was funny? Was he seriously doing this? How could he be such an ignorant idiot?

She hung up on him and stared at the phone for a full second before throwing the phone across the room from her. Glaring harshly at the phone, she crossed her arms and began to pace herself around the room again.

Every five seconds she would mimic his replies, and snicker in disbelief.

She hated him. He was being so dumb—it was officially final: being stupid and dumb and everything equivalent to those two words _was_ his job.

After a good five minutes had passed, and she was near to snapping her own neck, the death sound echoed throughout her room and she froze.

Slowly, her blue icy gaze trailed in the direction the high drumming echoed from.

The phone was ringing.

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**I wasn't too sure of what celebrity to do for the whole "pop-star" scene and whatnot, so I kind of just left it anonymous. I guess I could've done someone like Madonna... :P Ha...that's a joke...**

**And I know there's not much of Alvin, but the next chapter, I'll just say the phone will be blowing up. ;D**

**Review and tell me what you think, and thanks so much for reading! You guys are awesome! Thank you so much!**


	4. Enhanced

***Thank you to all of those who have been reading! ****And an even bigger thank you to all of those who have reviewed! I really appreciate it!***

**Okay, I really wanted to update today so...here it is! :D**

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Her ears were about ready to bleed.

Just kidding—her ears _were _bleeding.

She was so ready to scream bloody murder.

Brittany took in a deep breath, her whole body tightening. When she let go of her breath, her body released the pressure that had built up in her muscles. Slowly, and as calmly as she could contain herself to be, her feet began to guide her to the phone that lay on the ground beside her bed.

She was going to make this simple; it was going to be easy. She knew what she was going to do, and she knew how should would handle it all. She held the situation in the palm of her hand, just like how she held her future in the palm of her hand. She was the queen, and he was the joker. He might've been king, once, but he skipped down, not even worthy to be the jester and became the joker in the blink of an eye. She reigned herself now. He was out of the picture.

Taking her sweet time to pick up the ringing phone, she leisurely brought it up to her ears and answered.

"What _now?" _she exasperated. "What do I need to do to get you to STOP? Wasn't answering the phone the first time good enough?! Gosh—there's just no _pleasing_ you, is there?!"

"Whoa—Brittany—!" His voice came through the small speakers. She felt her face twist in confusion.

"Alvin, I knew you were such a girl—but I didn't know you were _that _much of a girl—your voice totally sounds like a girl!" she snickered. But then she froze like ice. "Oh my, gosh I can't believe I married a girl…" Her voice came out in a low rush. Now she was _really _stressing.

"Well that's because I _am _a girl!"

Brittany's heart pumped a threatening fear throughout her body. Okay…either she's having a really terrible nightmare, or he's drunk and hit his head really hard…

"_Brittany!_ The next time you answer a phone, I suggest you check the caller ID! You do know that's what it's for—_to see who's calling, right?_"

Suddenly her cold blue eyes widened. "_Eleanor?_" Now what was her youngest sister calling her for?

"NO—_I'm Alvin, remember?_—yes it's me! Who else sounds like this?" Eleanor's voice flared through Brittany's ears.

Heaving out a sigh, Brittany snapped, "The devil—now what are you calling me for?"

Eleanor scoffed and stated, "Well, your husband just called here a few minutes ago, complaining to Theodore and asking if he knows anything about why you're so mad. SO, _I _decided to take things into my own hands and called you."

She gritted her teeth. So, now Alvin was going off, calling his own _brothers_ for answers? Umm, yeah—no. He wasn't going to get anything out of them. They'd both be dead ends, _obviously_. She hoped he knew that he wasn't going to get the answers that he wanted. She rarely hung out with her siblings, now…and she didn't know why either, but she just didn't bother with them as much as she used to. And why in the world would she ever hang out with people such as Simon and Theodore? No offense to them, but, they just didn't get her; they weren't girls—they both had boy-brains and they were related to Alvin—and that meant they both had his same retarded mentality about girls. It was definitely more reasonable for her to be hanging out with her sisters. Maybe that's what she needed to do—have a girl's night, or something of the sort with her sisters… After all, she did need to have some _real _girl time; spending time with random girls who pampered her hair or nails wasn't all that sentimental.

"Hello? Brittany? You still there?"

Blinking, she answered, "U-umm, yeah—duh—what'd you think? I hung up on you?"

"Umm, yeah, I actually was beginning to think that."

Brittany scoffed, "Eleanor, I'd _never _do that," she then added almost awkwardly, "to you…"

"But…you'd do it to the one you love…" Eleanor finished, causing Brittany to roll her eyes.

Love? _Love? _Now that would just be _hilarious_ if that word actually was the relationship that she and Alvin had. They were more close to the verge of…hate.

"Eleanor, honey, you're my sister," she stated, casually sweet talking her way through the conversation. "I love you, and you're practically saying that I'd do something as _atrocious_ as pushing you off a bridge…" She managed a half-hearted laugh.

Copying the same laugh, Eleanor began, "Yeah, true, but you kind of _would_ probably push me off a bridge."

"Only to save you from being hit by a car or gunshot!" Brittany retorted, examining her nails.

Sighing deeply into the phone, Eleanor breathed, "Yeah, I guess you actually might do that…"

Brittany opened her mouth but a strange sound beeped through the phone. "Hold on," she huffed, "I think someone else is trying to call—"

"Oh, answer that, it might be Jeanette—you can just call me afterwards."

Nodding her head, she pressed the _Talk _button and said, "Hello—"

"Brittany, you're not mad at me because of that article in the magazine—are you? I just called Simon and he said that might be the reason," Alvin's voice suddenly emerged through the other line.

Immediately, a frown placed itself across her face, and she shot, "_NO _you _stupid_, _arrogant_, _egotistical_, _selfish_ little _twerp!_ That's like, only a sixteenth of what I'm mad about!" How could he honestly think that that was what her problem was with him? This _had _happened already before and they both were lies, so what made him think she'd be pathetically dumb and think like that _again?_

Alvin suddenly exploded, "Then _what? _What did I do, Brittany?!"

Again, that same strange sound beeped through the phone. Someone else was trying to contact her. It definitely was someone more important than him that was for sure.

"I'm sorry, _but I'm not sorry_, Alvin—_your times up!_" And she answered to the other caller. "Eleanor! I thought you said it was probably _Jeanette _calling!" she fired furiously, assuming this new caller was her baby sister.

"B-Brittany?" Came a small, timid voice instead.

_It was Jeanette._

"I-Is that y-you?"

"Oh, Jeanette!—thank _goodness!_" Brittany relieved her voice. "It's you!" she toned down her anger a notch. But within a few seconds of realization, she quickly wailed, "_Why couldn't you have called five seconds earlier?_" Her free hand flailed, and she threw it down to her hip, placing it firmly in position.

"Oh…I'm…I'm s-sorry, Brittany…if I knew I would've…" Jeanette apologized fervently.

Sighing dramatically, Brittany shook her head. "No, no—it's fine…but still…_why couldn't you just_—ugh! Never mind, forget that…" She took in a deep breath and exhaled, "What is it that you called me for? Did Alvin call Simon?

"Y—"

"Just kidding—don't answer that, I already know."

"Oh…well, okay, umm, what I called was to talk to you about Alvin calling Simon, and to ask if you were okay…?"

Huffing, she rolled her eyes. "I'm _fine_, Jeanette." She couldn't help but manage a tiny, small grin to appear on her features. _At least SOMEONE still knew a little decency of how to speak to her. _Jeanette had to be the first caller that night to actually _care _about her state of being.

"Well, I'm glad to hear that…and about, um, Alvin…?"

Right. She knew that question was going to come, sooner or later. The only thing she was grateful for was that Jeanette asked about herself _first _before going on to the whole Alvin-drama stuff going on.

"_Alvin_," she began relentlessly, beginning to pacer herself around the room, once again. "He is just being annoying, and getting under my skin. That's all there is to it, really," she shrugged, rolling her cold ice blue eyes.

"Oh…but, why is he calling Simon?" Jeanette quietly asked.

Pursing her lips, she began slowly, "Because Simon Seville is Mr. Smarty-Pants and Alvin seems to think that he holds all of the answers." She grinned sweetly.

Coming to a window, she stared at her reflection of perfection. As she admired herself, her whole face suddenly became dull. There wasn't much to smile at other than herself…and she wasn't in the mood to smile at herself. Sighing, she tilted her head to hold the phone in place on her shoulder, and untied the gold strands that held the white silk curtains open. Grabbing hold of each side of the smooth curtains, she brought them together, closing herself off from her reflection in the window. Looking around her room, she moved on to the other windows and did the same thing to the curtains as she talked on the phone to her sister.

"Right," Jeanette paused, leaving an awfully long trail of silence.

Finally after what felt like years and centuries, Jeanette spoke up, "It sounds like Alvin's getting _really _frustrated."

"Well, that's not my problem," Brittany simply shrugged, switching the phone to her other shoulder as she flipped her loose hair out of her face. Holding the phone on her shoulder with her head, but this time on her left shoulder, her hands gripped the pure, shimmering curtains as she stared out at the setting sun. The mellow tender colors of a light violet fading into a soft pink and a gentle yellow that smoothly spread out from what was left of the sun, filled the sky. The calming blue that once lit up the sky was fading away.

"Yeah…but…i-it sounds like he's really having a really hard time…" Her little sister softly spoke, almost like a silent whisper.

Sighing, she ripped herself away from the arms of the melting sky and abruptly closed the curtains. "You sound like he's over at your _house_," she seethed through her light pink lips.

"No…he's not here…but he's talking to Simon right now on his cell phone…" She exhaled gently.

"And you're…_eavesdropping?_" Brittany relieved her head and held the phone with her left hand.

Silence. Jeanette didn't respond.

Walking around her room, making sure all of the windows were closed, Brittany placed her right hand on her hip, impatiently roaming back and forth in her room. While she waited for her sister to respond, she spotted a picture of her and Alvin together on her nightstand. She gawked out of incredulity. She couldn't _believe_ that was still _there. _Marching over to it, she turned the photo facedown. Glancing around her room, more pictures of her and Alvin began to catch her eyes. Huffing, she heaved her body over to each and every single picture there was of her and Alvin together and turned them all facedown; and for the ones that hung on the walls, she took them down and set them against the wall, the photo facing towards the wall, of course.

Just when she was about to speak into the phone, her patience draining sucked dry out of her body, Jeanette finally spoke.

"No…well, y-yes…" She admitted. "But how can I not…? It all sounds really serious…Simon sounds so…just so…" She sighed, "I-I-I don't know how to explain this, but this situation isn't like others…"

Brittany rolled her eyes and merely shook her head. This was Jeanette she was speaking to. And she always made things sound deeper than they really were. So, what made this situation any different compared to when she's speaking to Eleanor or someone else?

"Jeanette," she began firmly, but Jeanette cut her off.

"Oh, I-I've got to hang up—I…I think Simon's going to call you right now…"

"What?! _Why?_" she shrieked into the phone, her eyebrows lifting out of pure horror.

"I-I-I'm not sure, but I'll call you afterwards, a-alright?"

She gave an annoyed sigh, but managed to respond with much dread, "_Alright_…"

And just like that, Jeanette had hung up.

Breathing in slowly, trying to keep her cool, the phone suddenly began to ring wildly in her hands. "Ugh!" she moaned. "Why me?!"

After the phone had rung loudly in her hand for a good few seconds, she finally answered the phone. "Yes?" she smiled sweetly.

"U-um, Brittany? This is…well, this is Simon Seville."

"Aww, Simon! Hey what's up?"

Simon sighed into the phone, "Well, I don't know how to put this—"

"It's alright, Simon," Brittany spoke lamely into the phone, twirling a strand of her hair, checking for any split ends. "Just spit it out already." She pursed her lips while she waited.

"Oh, right, I guess you already would know why I'm calling you," he half muttered to himself. "Alright, well, here's the big 'pizzazz' that I understand that's been going on between you and my brother: you are mad at him." He simply stated.

All she could do was roll her eyes. Well, that wasn't obvious _at all. _Her hanging up the phone on him, yelling at him over the phone—oh, _please_, that was the new slang to say "I love you (and I want to rip your head off and kill you over and over again)!" This was her showing him her affection…

"Look, I know the likelihood of getting mad at Alvin is off the grid. I get that, believe me. He's my brother. I've been living with him practically my whole life. And don't get me wrong, there are undeniably times that I myself would like to give his head an autopsy to see if the brain inside is the size of a blueberry—I get it, trust me." She couldn't help but cringe in disgust and horror. Who did her little sister _marry? _But she forced the thought away and kept her mouth shut as he continued on. "But you have to understand, that's just who he is."

"Yeah, but sometimes 'who he is' is enough to make all the hairs on my body scream and fall off! Like, I'm not even kidding! I'll be bald by next year!" Brittany screeched, self-consciously patting her hair.

She could hear Simon sigh. He was getting stressed, wasn't he? Well, that wasn't exactly her problem, so she didn't really care; plus he was the one who called her first. "Brittany, all I'm asking of you is to forgive him." She scowled at hearing this. "Please, for the sake of us all and not to mention my brother. He does love you…you know that, right?"

She wanted to stay silent, but she couldn't stop herself from saying, "Am I supposed to answer that?" She finally took a seat on her bed and grabbed a nail filer that she had used earlier that day that she left on her bed.

"I'm being serious, Brittany," he spoke firmly over the phone. "He does, truly love—"

"Me? He 'loves' me?" she sneered. "Ha, well, tell me then," she held the phone between her head and shoulder while she began to file her nails. "_How come he's not here?_"

"I don't understand—"

"Oh, do you not?" she ridiculed. That was a lie. "No, I think you know very well what I mean, Simon. And you know what? You can just tell him that he can kiss me goodbye when I'm long gone, buried beneath the earth because I am done with him."

"But—"

"_I'm sorry, Simon._" And she hung up.

Dropping the nail filer, she grabbed hold of the phone and stared at it. She pursed her lips and shook her head. If Alvin honestly thought that just because Simon wasn't him, and that he could slide on by and get her to be all ooey-gooey-I-love-you type of trash, then he had another thing coming.

Suddenly the phone began to ring in her hands and she answered, "Gosh, make sure your Honey-Bunches-of-Oats—or whatever you call each other—_never_ calls me again to give me a little heart-to-heart chitchat because I am not interested and I don't need him advising me!"

"Whoa, Brittany, calm down," Eleanor's voice prompted.

Brittany pulled the phone back and looked at it confused. She could've sworn the caller ID was Jeanette's…

She brought it back up to her right ear. "What's going on?" she asked, crossing her legs.

"Eleanor and Theodore are over here," Jeanette answered, her voice slightly fading towards the end of her words.

"What?" Brittany's jaw slackened.

"Theodore and I came over because Simon wanted to talk to him, and I wanted to talk to Jeanette," Eleanor added on.

She blinked. "So, you guys are talking to me with the speakers on? Where everyone else in the world can hear?"

"Brittany, we're not stupid—we're in Jeanette's bedroom—the boys are in her kitchen," Eleanor boldly spoke. "Happy?"

"Yes, very—but is the door shut?"

She heard an annoyed sigh. "_Yes_."

"Great!" she exclaimed, sarcasm written all over her face.

Eleanor huffed through the speakers and spoke, "Brittany, are you okay, like, REALLY okay?"

She rolled her blazing ice blue eyes and snickered, "Girls, I'm fine, okay?"

"I'm sorry, but Brittany? I—w-we don't believe you…we, well, we're just not sure until we see some proof…" Jeanette hesitantly spoke up.

Brittany gave a dramatic sigh. Great. What did her sisters expect her to do to prove she was fine? It's not like she was doing anything stupid to herself, gosh, she'd never.

"Which is exactly why, Jeanette and I," Eleanor leisurely began, her voice smooth and calm, "have made plans to go over to your place tomorrow afternoon and spend the entire day there; it's about time we hung out with each other, and it's been quite a while since I've seen you."

Opening her mouth to protest, Brittany stopped herself. As much as she hated to admit it, her sisters were right. It was about time they had some girl time. She needed to vent to them, and she needed to surround herself around proper girls. And who better to surround herself with other than her two sisters? It wasn't socially healthy for her to stay locked up tight inside of her home…_alone_…in the silence. She couldn't keep talking to the _walls_… Gosh, they were the _worst _ever! Both the walls and the silence—both were such _horrible _company!

It was final. Her sisters needed to come over. This was a chance for her to have something to do other than perfect her beauty—which, it wasn't like she didn't enjoy doing that—but she felt she needed to do a variety of things with her life.

"Yes!" she suddenly exclaimed, getting excited about the idea. "Please! Do come over! I've been _dying_ of boredom!" Now she sounded desperate…but she kind of was.

"Great! I actually thought you were going to object!" Eleanor laughed. "But I guess not—!"

Suddenly some voices were heard, muffled through the speakers. After a few seconds passed by, Eleanor's voice hastily spoke, "Okay, Theodore and I are going to be leaving now, but _don't eat breakfast tomorrow! _Okay? We're all going to go eat out! Okay?" Her voice was fading as if she was getting further and further away. "Okay! Bye, Brittany! See you tomorrow!"

"Um, were you girls talking to…to, um, Brittany?" Theodore's voice came audibly through the telephone speakers, but he sounded distant, like Eleanor's voice had on her last few words.

"Yup!" she heard her youngest sister's voice.

"Oh, well—tell her I say hi!"

"I think she can hear you from all the way over here, Theodore," Eleanor giggled.

"Oh, really?" He sounded completely clueless; he sounded as if he had just discovered something amazing. "Well, then—HI BRITTANY!" he cheerfully shouted. "Oh, w-wait, I mean—BYE BRITTANY!"

She then heard her younger sister laugh some more; she sounded so happy.

"U-um, so, y-you got that, right?" Jeanette suddenly spoke, interrupting the thoughts that had entered Brittany's mind.

"Mmhmm," she confirmed, dropping her gaze down to her lap.

"Okay, well, I—I hope you don't m-mind, but, I'm gonna go see Eleanor off, so...see you tomorrow, Britt…" Jeanette's voice genuinely spoke. "Bye."

Brittany sucked in a deep breath and softly spoke, trying to keep her voice in control from not sounding too down, "Bye…"

As soon as Jeanette had hung up, all Brittany could hear was the dead end of the phone humming. Sighing, she reluctantly hung up the phone, but her hand stayed. She stayed, doing the only thing she could do at the moment. She held the phone up to her ears, frozen.

* * *

**Yaaaaaay! The fam' is comin' in! **

**Oh, and for this chapter I wasn't too sure how to end it, but this was the best that I could come up with, so... ;D**

**Reviews are much adored (meaning you should review... ;D)! And thanks for reading!**


	5. Violated

As she applied a tinted pink lipstick to her lips, Brittany flashed herself a confident smile. But as she continued to stare at her flawless reflection in her vanity mirror, she gripped the edges of the pearly white dressing table connected to the mirror. She dropped her gaze down to all of her fine tipped makeup brushes that were scattered on the glistening tabletop, her focus getting hazy.

She swallowed as she blinked, taking in deep breaths, letting her head try to catch its breath. She suddenly felt…lightheaded… But, exactly, _why? _Was it because she was too stressed out? Did she use too much of her energy yelling over the phone? She really didn't speak _that _much over the phone now did she?

Brittany closed her eyes as the slight dizziness began to drift away. No…she didn't need to question herself why she felt fatigue for that split-second. She already knew the answer. And she was dreading until that answer began to actually _show. _She wasn't going to be able to hide this forever. She knew that; and she knew that this sadly _wasn't _the last time she'd be feeling this way.

Shaking her head, she slowly fixed her composure and managed to pull off another confident smile in the mirror. As long as she looked perfect, her hair looked perfect, her nails looked perfect, her makeup looked perfect, she would be happy. She didn't need anything else to make her smile. All she needed was herself. And she was fine being alone. If there was anyone she ever needed, it'd be herself. She was strong, reliable, had perfect taste in fashion—who better to be her shoulder to cry on other than herself?

Brittany sighed as she began to put all of her makeup brushes away. Grabbing her black lipstick tube, she picked out a bag that matched her outfit and stuffed the lipstick along with all of her other essentials into the bag.

Walking over to the windows, she opened the curtains as the bright blue sky blinded her eyes. Cringing slightly back into the shadows of her room, she took a step forward as her cold ice blue eyes scanned the front driveway. When she spotted a white limousine parked in her driveway, she couldn't help but smile in relief. She was worried her sisters would arrive in a less fashionable way…like, in a hideous-bright-yellow-taxi-less-fashionable kind of way…

Rushing over to her vanity mirror to take one last evaluation of her appearance, she grinned in approval, kissing her reflection goodbye as she rushed out of her room, quickly snatching her pair of heels sitting on her bed before she ran out the door. By the time she reached the grand staircase, her butler was halfway up the steps (probably coming to tell her of her sisters' arrival). Brittany pursed her lips as she pricked her feet down the steps, quickly saying as she passed Karl, "Hey, can you make sure my iron's turned off?"

"Uh—uh, yes, Miss Brittany," Karl confirmed caught off guard. "I assume you know of the special guests awaiting outside your house?"

"Yup!" Brittany huffed as she staggered to the front door, trying to slip her cashmere pink pumps on. She glanced up at the great grandfather clock in the corner of the main entrance biting her bottom lip. She only had a minute to spare before she'd be considered _late. _And she didn't cut the time she normally took to pick out an outfit for just _anything_.

Since she was too tired to get out of bed when her alarm clock went off, she decided she'd give herself an extra five minutes to rest her eyes. Yeah—that was a mistake she was never going to make again! Instead of waking back up five minutes later, she woke up _fifteen minutes _later. FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER. That was bad. That was really bad. Waking up fifteen minutes later, therefore causing her to lose TEN minutes of her precious time to get ready, meant that she wouldn't have enough time to do everything she normally did to get ready. Getting ready took _time. _Getting ready wasn't something that could be rushed. No. It took _genuine, actual TIME_ to get ready. At least to get ready _perfectly _and not look like some hideous zombie that got some makeover for a fashion walk. ..

But lucky for her, she was Brittany Miller. She was one of the only ones in the whole entire world who could pull off cutting time from their original get-ready time and STILL look absolutely _fabulous! _In fact, she was probably the only one in the world that could pull this off.

Choosing an outfit, blending the right powders, adorning the right accessories, applying mascara and eyeliner in the right flair, and styling the right hairdo was an insanely hard thing to do. But Brittany had it down to the arts. She was born a professional at doing that kind of thing, so, despite the fact she knew she didn't look to her full potential of pure, beauty perfection, she knew she still looked _amazing_. And that's all that mattered.

By the time Brittany finally had her heels on she practically flung herself out the door, but of course in a ladylike way. Casually, she headed towards her ride while the white glistening door to the limo swung open. As she got in and the door shut behind her, she immediately felt at ease. She was with her sisters. It would be just like the olden days except…no Seville brothers to ruin the day! How exciting! She was thrilled at the thought. For once she'd be in _peace_ with her sisters.

She wouldn't have to worry about any stupid scheme hiding at every corner she turned in to. No more ghosts, no more hauntings, and DEFINITELY no more stupid Alvin Seville. Oh how she could scream and jump for joy! She was just way too thrilled. This day was definitely going to be _perfect. _Oh, and look at that: perfect day plus perfect girl meant perfect future! The only question left on her mind now, was how come her future wasn't exactly _perfect? _

That was a question she just couldn't quite wrap her mind around…

"Good morning, Brittany," Jeanette gave a small smile, as she watched her sister settle down in the black leather car seat across from her.

Brittany managed to flash her pearly white teeth in response as she touched her hair, fixing it up.

"So," Eleanor began, moving out of her seat next door to Jeanette over to Brittany's side, "I've made reservations at that one new fancy grill place—I hear it has 'the best quality breakfasts ever,' so…" She shrugged her shoulders and exhaled, "We'll just have to see."

"You mean you haven't _been_ there yet?" Brittany scorned, redoing her smooth hair into a loose side ponytail.

The blonde-haired girl gave Brittany a look. Raising her eyebrows she snapped, "What? Does that matter?"

Brittany gave an exaggerated sigh as she shook her head, rolling her eyes. "_Yes_," she huffed, "of course it does! Are you seriously taking me to a place none of us have even _tried_ before—let alone even _been_ there before?! I mean come on, what if that place is where all the hobos of California hang out at? What if that place is the 'joint for all of the homeless homeys' or whatever you wanna call them? What if that place tries to poison one of us? What if that place serves squid and octopus on a platter for dessert? Do you know how sick and wrong and absolutely _disgusting _that is?" she spazzed, her eyes switching between her two sisters relentlessly. They both clearly didn't think this through. Did they not understand the precaution they should take when serving her food from restaurants?

Jeanette merely pursed her lips while she glanced to Eleanor, who simply huffed out an annoyed puff of air. Reluctantly, Eleanor responded, "Well how are you supposed to try new restaurants?"

"Easy," Brittany replied, straightening her loose outfit out, now that her hair was perfected. "I simply wait until one of you girls suggest it to me," she smiled halfheartedly.

Eleanor tilted her head as she sucked her sister's words into her brain. "Alright…" She slowly said. "So, Jeanette and I are like food testers for you?"

Brittany opened her mouth to reply, but her bespectacled sister interrupted unknowingly, stating as she readjusted her glasses, "A-actually, I think a more correct term f-for what you just said is 'royal food taster' because well, saying 'food tester' is fairly general and, um, well, that's a more likely term for like cook-off competitions; whereas, royal food taster is more proper b-because in the times of kings and queens, well, I'm sure you guys can figure out the rest..." She ended quietly, suddenly realizing how much attention she had gained.

Blinking, Brittany gawked, "Okay, I really don't think you really needed to go off and explain that whole—" she waved her hands around, not sure how to explain all the words on her mind all at once "—_thing—!_"

Eleanor could only manage a small smile as she glanced to Brittany, then to Jeanette.

"Oh…" The bespectacled sister timidly dropped her gaze. "Sorry…" She shrugged and grinned slightly.

"You know what," Brittany began, suddenly finding a new craving, "how is your restaurant coming along?"

"What? Oh…" Eleanor blinked surprised. "Well, we're still working on the interior and, well…" She sighed, "We have the building built along with the kitchen…the only thing Theodore and I are still working on is the rest of the pieces that would make our restaurant a restaurant…" She shrugged her shoulders and pursed her lips as she smiled.

Nodding her head, Brittany blankly stated, "I want pancakes." To be honest, she really didn't know why she wanted pancakes in particular…all she knew was that she wanted pancakes. She was hungry, her stomach was grumbling at her, it was early in the morning, her head was spinning… She knew she was really losing her mind, but she also knew there was nothing she could do about it. All she could do, that she wanted to do, was wait.

"Pancakes…?" Jeanette's emerald green eyes studied her eldest sister.

"You really want _pancakes?_" Eleanor asked for confirmation.

Brittany gave her two sisters a look. "_Yeah_," she snapped. "Is there something wrong with that? I really do want pancakes." She crossed her arms across her chest as she crossed her legs.

"Alright...is there anywhere in particular?" Eleanor slowly asked as she began to rummage through her bag, pulling out her cell phone.

Taking little time to respond, Brittany simply answered, "Let's go to your restaurant, Eleanor—I'm sure it's _prepped_ for cooking…"

Cocking her head to the side, Eleanor's faced scrunched, but then lightened as she said, "Theodore actually is there testing out the cookware right now…I guess we can go and see if he's still there…" She began to dial a number in her cell phone.

"Oh, I'm sure he's still there baby sister," Brittany sighed as she leaned into the back of her seat. "You don't need to call him."

"That's not who I'm calling—I'm calling the restaurant I'd made reservations at—the one that you clearly have no interest in because you think it's going to kill us all with poison apples!" Eleanor shot as she pressed her cell phone up to her ears. "Oh, and we can't forget the squids and octopuses that are served for dessert!—oh, and Jeanette, sorry, could you tell the driver that we're having a change of destination?" Jeanette blinked caught off guard, but nodded her head abruptly.

"Y-y-yeah…I guess I could…"

"Thanks…" Eleanor smiled as the other line she was calling answered. "Hi—I'm calling about a reservation…?"

Brittany sighed as she zoned out, beginning to rub her hands together, checking her nail polish quickly before she stared blankly ahead of her.

"…thank you…a-again, sorry for the sudden change…" Jeanette grinned, her features falling into a sweet sincerity of her words. She let out a deep breath as her gaze trailed to Brittany.

As Brittany continued to stare, her ice cold blue eyes locked, her eyebrows contorted in as another wave of nausea hit her head. Okay…she really needed to get her head straight. She was getting some sort of fever or something, wasn't she? Or maybe she was getting exhausted? Oh gosh, she really needed to relax…

"Brittany…" Jeanette timidly moved down her seat so she was more directly in front of her sister. "Brittany…?" she tapped Brittany's leg lightly as she pursed her lips.

Blinking, Brittany snapped out of her trance and looked to Jeanette.

"Are you…feeling alright…?" she asked as she examined Brittany up and down, he eyes faltering every now and then away from her face.

Brittany scrunched her face in confusion, but widened her eyes as a hard wave of realization smacked her right in the face. "I'm fine!" she shrilled, self-consciously beginning to brush her hands through her hair after her small little outburst. The last thing she needed was her sisters to worry about her and attending to her every single passing second of the day… Gosh, how she hated being treated as if she was some frail, fragile little doll that couldn't handle being hit with something as simple as a small _breeze_. She could take care of herself perfectly fine.

"Are you sure…?"

Scoffing, Brittany flicked her hair out of her hands and crossed her arms across her chest. "Jean, honey—when I say I'm fine, _I mean it._"

"But—"

"It's _nothing_, Jeanette—puh-_lease_ just under_stand_. Alright?" she gritted fiercely.

Jeanette opened her mouth once more, but Brittany chewed her up.

"I'm _fine_—I promise—I would _know_…" She clarified. "You don't have to go _blabbermouthing _off to the whole wide world! Got it?"

Jeanette clamped her mouth shut and took a deep breath through her nose. "Well…I…" She gave her steaming sister a long firm stare and reluctantly nodded her head. "Okay…I-I guess if you s-say, so…sorry about that…Brittany…" A small smile tugged at the corners of her lips.

"What just happened?" Eleanor suddenly spoke, slowly bringing her cell phone down from her ear. "Is this something that I should be concerned about?"

Brittany opened her mouth, but Jeanette beat her to the chase.

"Oh, no-no, umm…no…" Jeanette shook her head as she readjusted her glasses. "It was nothing…" She looked to Brittany and smiled. "We were just having a small…disagreement…" She looked to Eleanor. "And you know how that normally goes…"

* * *

"So…spill." Eleanor stated as she pushed aside her sticky, white plate, grabbing her glass of orange juice. "You're probably about ready to explode—and if not that, well, either way I know you're going to explode sometime soon, so…let's hear it."

Brittany crossed her arms, leaning against the silver prep table the three sisters had just eaten at. "I'm not talking."

Eleanor gave Brittany a look.

"Um, do you girls need anything else?" Theodore suddenly appeared as he began to take away their empty, syrupy, sticky plates.

Sighing in realization, Eleanor smiled as she looked to Theodore. "Thanks Theodore…" She grabbed one of his hands while he smiled brightly in response. "Umm, I'm sorry, but, could you leave for a moment?" she hesitantly asked, switching glances between her eldest sister and his deep green eyes.

As his eyes innocently widened, the small frown that had begun to form on his face instantly fading, another happy smile lit his face up as he nodded his head. Eleanor released his hand and smiled, "Thanks…"

"No problem," came his reply as he stacked the plates and disappeared through some doors.

But before he vanished, Jeanette quickly called, "Thanks so much, Theodore—it was really good—the food…it tasted really good…" And as his final response, he flashed a bright smile.

"Happy?" Eleanor folded her arms, edging in her step.

"Very," Brittany smiled sweetly. There was no way she was talking with one of the Seville's around. Even if it was sweet Theodore…

"Now that you made me ask my husband to leave, I expect a lot to start spilling from your lips," the blonde smiled.

Rolling her eyes, Brittany exhaled deeply. She wasn't thrilled, and was thrilled, all at the same time. She wanted to rant on and on to her sisters about her annoyance towards Alvin, but she didn't want to have to actually _speak _about him. In fact, that was the last thing she wanted to do. Since when did he ever deserve her voice to speak of him? _Never. _Since when did he deserve to be the main attraction of her words? Again_, never. _

She was just so fed up with him. She wished she could simply write his name down on a piece of paper, rip that paper up into little tiny pieces, put the little tiny shreds of paper into a shredder, burn the shredded pieces, take the leftover ashes from the burnt up pieces of paper, and throw it up into the ocean, therefore making his existence exterminated. If only it was that simple. If only she really could just simply write his name down and rip it apart, ripping him apart…

He was already tearing her up, so why wasn't she tearing him up?

"Brittany…?" her sisters called her name as they put all of their attention on her.

"He's pushing me way off the edge!" Brittany flared, her arms flailing up out of anger. "That Seville is pushing me way badly! And I don't know how much more of this I can take before I actually hunt him down and let my hands do what they have so badly wanted to do to his stupid little face! And let me tell you: _it's not very pretty!_" She couldn't hold it in any longer. He violated her space too much. He got too close under her skin. If she held her anger in any longer, she'd take a gun and aim it at her heart…because her heart was sick and tired of dealing with him.

"Okay…" Eleanor consumed in her words. "Explain to us…tell us why you feel this way?"

She shook her head. "I…" She shook her head again. "I just don't get it! He has time to go see the world and do what he loves—but I'm starting to think he loves doing what he loves, more than he could ever love me. And I don't know why I care so much! It's so annoying! While he's got everything—life _perfect _and such—" she sneered, "I'm over here playing _baby doll _or something for him! My life is falling apart all because of him while his life seems to be going _perfectly well! PERFECTLY! _Catch that lucky word? Perfect! His life is _perfect. _Now, compare his life to mine. What do you see? OH! I know! You see some screwed up girl's life with some perfect boy's life!

"And you know why my life is so screwed up? Do you know why? Well let me tell you why! Because I married _him!" _Her temper slowly began to escalate down, along with her voice. "Because I married the most _egotistical, selfish, little pig _the world has ever known throughout all of history! I'm sure he holds the record for 'Biggest Jerk' in one of those world record books…"

"Well, what's wrong with him doing what he loves…?" Jeanette timidly asked, biting her bottom lip.

Brittany let an exasperated sigh out. "Because he's never _here! _He's never around! He never has _time _for me! Do you know what it's like to see his face everywhere, actually _smiling—_being all HAPPY? No! Of course not! Your life isn't like mine! You've never gone through what I've gone through…and you never will! Not either one of you! It frustrates me so badly to see him being _happy! _I wanna be happy, _too! _But somehow I'm not! At the start I was fine! I was happy! When he left, I was fine! And then him leaving and being gone began to get longer, and longer, and LONGER! I don't know how it happened…but he somehow must've stolen all of my '_sunshine_' or something because I am miserable!

"Maybe if he actually came and stayed with me—or at least took the time to come and _see _me when I asked him to, I wouldn't be so miserable! But _no!_" she mocked, a scowl masking her features. "He's never here! Do you know how many birthdays—how many holidays: Christmas, Valentine's, Halloween, Thanksgiving, 4th of freaking July—" she named them all off with her pristine fingers "—that I've spent _alone?"_

"Well you could've spent those days with one of us," Eleanor intervened, looking to Jeanette as she nodded her head.

"Yeah—but you guys have someone to actually _spend _it with! Do you know how that makes me look? Being all alone? It makes me look pretty darn bad, if you ask me…"

"Didn't he come sometime in November last year though?" Eleanor flashed glances between her calmer sister for confirmation.

Brittany snickered bitterly. Now that was a story to tell… "Yeah—the last week for like a _day!_ OH! And guess what? Do you know _why_ he even came back for twenty-four hours? Catch this—this is what he told me—'I forgot something, and I needed to come get it, so I'll only be able to stay for a night because I have to leave early in the morning to get back on track with this tour'!" Her arms flailed up heatedly. "Can you believe the _nerve? _He only came back because he 'forgot something'! Yeah! If there's any way to make a girl like _me_ feel like trash—that's how you do it! Learn from the expert: ALVIN SEVILLE! Isn't he just such a _ladykiller?! _ Yes! As a matter of fact he is! He's killing me! _Literally! _He's killing me! Now what do you say to that girls? Tell me? How come I'm _still _alive? How come I haven't already made up my mind and hunted him down? How come I haven't bothered to file a divorce against that big, fat _jerk?_"

Jeanette began to open her mouth, and Brittany caught this.

"Oh! Jeanette! Please! Do _share!"_

Jeanette clamped her mouth shut and looked at Brittany. Her emerald eyes glistened as she looked at her sister hurt. And she didn't look at the flaming girl the way she did because she was hurt from her words…she was hurt because it pained her to see her sister like this. Especially considering the simple fact that this wasn't how she normally was.

This wasn't how Brittany normally was. That was true. And that was one of the reasons why Brittany was mad. Along with her blazing hatred for Alvin and not to mention his disrespect to her, she'd started hating herself. She'd grown a despicable hatred towards herself because of who she was starting to become…

"_Well…?_"Brittany impatiently placed her hands on her hips as she bored her eyes into both of her sisters' eyes.

"Love…" Jeanette spoke quietly. Softly.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" Brittany leaned in, cupping her right hand over her right ear. "Say that one more time—_louder _this time…"

"Love…" Jeanette spoke gently once more. "Brittany…you know he loves you…"

"Oh, gosh…you sound like Simon…" Brittany grumbled, as she crossed her arms.

"Brittany, she's right. It's your own stubbornness to not see this…" Eleanor suddenly spoke up, placing a hand on Brittany's arm.

Tempted to slap away her sister's hand away, Brittany didn't. She couldn't. She didn't have the strength to…

This wasn't easy for her.

But she couldn't live like this any longer.

He was pushing her way too far this time…

How much longer could she bare to last?

* * *

**Sorry if this is a late update...but I plan to update every week or so from here so... ;D**

**I hoped all of you enjoyed reading this! I was a little stumped at what I wanted for this chapter...but I'm past that now and I definitely know what I want for the next chapters. :) I'm really excited to write the upcoming chapters!**

**Thanks so much for reading! And please don't forget to review!**


	6. Explosions

Brittany sighed heavily as she shut the door behind her. Dropping her purse and shopping bags, she pressed her back against the door and hid her face in her hands as she shrunk down to the floor.

She was way too stressed. She was ruining her complexion, and she was ruining her mind. What was she doing to herself?

Earlier at breakfast with her sisters, she was spilling her heart and soul out—which honestly was relieving to her—but then she had to stop herself short due to the fact that her sisters were beginning to get…too…sentimental towards _Alvin… _Which is _just _what she needed, obviously. _Not…_

So, she simply had to do what she had to do to save herself from exploding: Stop the conversation. Which wasn't too hard because all she had to do was start walking off saying something around the lines of "let's go shopping" and that worked miracles because when she turned around and gave her sisters a look, their jaws (that just so happen to be _open—_gosh_, _were they waiting for a fly to come _crawling_ in?) clamped shut tight and they went shopping! And she was happy…but that happiness only lasted her until they were actually _done _shopping.

As much as she just _adored_ to shop and as much as it always brought everlasting happiness to her, it didn't last her that long this time…it used to _always, _though. And that was another piece of her frustration that made her mad. The one thing that always brought her joy didn't work anymore magic on her.

Occasionally, when she was somewhere such as in the dressing room at some fancy outlet, or just wherever, she would catch her sisters talking about her and Alvin. It was obvious from what they spoke to each to each other while trying to be all secretive and "quiet" like little kids, Eleanor and Jeanette were both worried about her relationship with him; which that didn't bother her that much…but what did bug her was the fact that they were leaning towards his favor. Although, Jeanette _would_ have a tendency to give her the slack that Eleanor clearly wasn't giving her (which made her attitude a little more nicer towards the brunette)… But that was because her oh-so-_smart _sister knew something that the other didn't.

Brittany had every right to be mad at him, at Alvin. If maybe her sisters put themselves into her skin, they wouldn't be so _against _her—well, not that, but they wouldn't try so hard to defend _him _so much. He didn't need any of that. It was her that needed defending. She needed it. She needed to have someone to be there for her. She needed someone she could rely on when she was near breaking point. And clearly he wasn't an option because he was the one she was going against. Which is exactly why she believed—no, she _knew _that getting married to him was the biggest mistake of her life. Going against the one who she (amazingly in her case) trusted and cared about the most wasn't her ideal image of what a relationship should be…especially when that one person she regretfully had to suck up to was who she was married to.

Constantly she was alone in her own silence; she needed to have someone she could talk to so she wouldn't go insane. It was amazing to her that she was still sane, but then again, she had a strong head. She could handle it. But still…she needed someone she knew she could always lean on when she needed it. She needed someone to always be there to tell her _it's going to be okay, _or even _enough _when it really was _enough. _She needed someone who could help her stay on track. Of course the only one fit for this kind of role perfectly was her, but there was only one of her. And according to word on the street, Alvin was the next closest thing that was like her. Her sisters have even told her that he was practically a reincarnation of her except a boy version…with boy characteristics…

Brittany sighed heavily as the crackling sound of car tires rolling on pavement reached her ears. As she stared through the cracks she made in her hands that still masked her face, car lights flashed brightly through the glass windows above her through both the doors.

She knew Eleanor and Jeanette had been waiting out there just in case she decided to change her mind about her decision…

Her two sisters asked to stay the night with her. They asked her and she wanted them to stay…but she didn't let them stay. She couldn't let them because there was something she wasn't ready for them to know yet; something that only her, and her alone knew about—not even the servants and her own butler that were constantly around her knew. There was something she didn't want her sisters to see her deal with…

By the time the bright, white lights that had reflected through the blurred glass above Brittany's head had completely faded away, she began to collect her bags and pushed herself up to a stand. Wobbling a little, causing her to edge and stumble in her step, she bit her bottom lip as she forced herself to balance out. This was absolutely _ridiculous!_ Something as simple as standing was getting hard for her to do now? If standing was this hard for her, who _knows_ how hard it will be for her to even get up to her _bedroom…_

Taking in deep breaths while her head began to feel lighter than the bags hanging on her arms, she managed to make it to the staircase before she finally gave up walking in her heels. Closing her eyes, she hung onto the railing of the staircase and pulled her shoes off before slowly taking her first step up the stairs. Keeping her head down, eyes glued to the upcoming step, she finally managed to make it to the second step. She slowly took a few more steps, taking her precious time on each step.

Brittany exhaled and finally lifted her head, turning to look around her. As her gaze trailed down the stairs, she let a dramatic groan escape her lips. "You're kidding me!" she huffed as her head snapped in front of her, trailing up the many steps she still had to go.

_Seriously? _She was only about a _fourth_ of the way up the staircase…that wasn't even _half _way up them! By the time she reached the top, she'd be an old granny! And that wasn't acceptable! But she couldn't go up any faster or else she'd probably fall to her death_. _

No one was around to help her except her own self.

While she was off with her sisters, she called her butler and told him that he and the rest of the workers that slaved away could get off of work and go home for the rest of the day. She had told him that he didn't need to wait for her to come home and that he could go off on his jolly way to his own home… Now, she was _really _regretting she ever made that stupid phone call…

Brittany groaned as she mentally slapped herself. Of _course _this was happening to her.

Pursing her pink lips, she slowly began to drag herself up the steps.

It wasn't until what felt like a billion years had passed and she tried to take another step only to figure out there was no more steps to take, did she figure out that she had _finally _made it to the top.

Sighing in relief, Brittany glanced around her and looked out beyond the staircase. The dark shadowed figures she spotted freaked her out and made her head on her way to her room. Despite the fact that she knew exactly what every black silhouette that lurked in the shadows of her house were, they still creeped her out… Every time she would stare, or merely even _glimpse _at the stupid figures, her eyes _always _played tricks on her. Either she'd think she saw something move, or worse, she'd think she saw some random creeper standing there…

Too many times she had stared at something lingering in the dark in her house only to figure out it was something as silly as a _lamp. _A freaking lamp. There have been other various items too such as vases on a small table and the coat rack down by the front doors that have tricked her more than once…

When Brittany had finally directed herself into her room, she immediately shut the door and dropped her bags, leaning her back against the door. Running both of her hands through her hair, she pulled her loose ponytail out in the process. Her tongue felt sick, and her head told her that she was revolting.

She clutched onto her head to try and ease the pain—to maybe, if possible, squeeze the sickening feeling out. She wanted it gone. She hated this feeling. She hated everything about it.

Maybe if she lied down she'd feel better?

As the thought raced through her mind, she finally agreed to move her body over to her bed. She felt horrible…every movement felt like such a _drag… _How in this world did she survive hanging out with her sisters keeping a straight head? How come she was suddenly feeling sick NOW?

Slowly, she sucked in a deep breath and carried herself over to her bed. When she got the upper half of her body sprawled out atop her bed, she deliberately slid down to the ground and simply rested her forehead against her right arm. She couldn't lie down. She could already feel that that was going to make her feel worse.

Gosh, she felt _horrible. _Her head was spinning, and she was on the verge of probably _purging_. How lovely…just what every girl _wants! _Who needs to feel _great _when feeling miserable was absolutely _wonderful?_

Brittany bit her tongue in attempt to depress the unwanted tempt in her mouth. She really felt like she was going to vomit…and that was the _last _thing she wanted. She'd rather _die _than go through with throwing up half of her organs! It was so _disgusting _and _revolting _to vomit! She absolutely _hated _it! In fact, she hated it more than _Alvin! _And that was saying a lot…

She bit harder down on her tongue. She didn't care if she would make her tongue bleed, and she didn't care if she bit her tongue off. Just as long as she wouldn't have to _purge her guts out_, literally, she'd be fine.

"Oh gosh…" She covered her hand over her lips as she stopped biting her tongue (okay, she didn't really want to actually bite her tongue off realistically) and instead she sucked on her tongue. She still felt absolutely terrible, but she wasn't throwing up quite yet, so…she was happy about that…but she was absolutely dreading the fact that she may _actually _have to vomit. And that freaked her out; she was scared of that.

Suddenly it dawned on her that she probably would want some sort of trash can to be around her…because if she was going to eventually barf, then she'd most definitely want to have something to explode her insides in. There was _no way _that she was going to get her bed, or the floor, messy with her vomit. No. No. And most definitely NO. She was alone at the moment, and there was no way she would be able to clean the mess up herself! Purging wasn't going to make her feel any better. She'd still feel nauseated no matter what.

True, she could always just simply go crawl over to the _toilet…_but, seriously? There was no way she was going to lean her head over some nasty bowl of nastiness—eww!—no! And true, despite the fact that she arranged it so that the maids would ALWAYS clean every toilet in her house every one hour—that still didn't mean the toilets were actually completely, fully, sanitized, or gross-free!

There were many things Brittany would do, even though she didn't find it to be the most sophisticated thing for someone like her to do…but purging in the toilet wasn't one of the things on her list that she'd ever make exceptions for. No. It was either in some waste bin she'd allow herself to purge in, or off the cliff of Niagara Falls. Any place. Wherever. Just anywhere other than the _toilet_.

Collecting her thoughts, Brittany gazed around her for the closest waste bin. There had to be one _somewhere_ close by. And if there wasn't, well, she'd make some changes about that…

Closing her eyes in relief when she spotted a small white bin not too far away from her, she laid her head back on her right arm that rested on the bedside. All she had to do was make a simple, small reach. Then she'd have her mark. But she didn't really want to move…

Sighing begrudgingly, she forced herself to reach the bin and managed to bring it over next to her. Squeezing her eyes shut tight, she quietly whimpered to herself as the nauseating feeling twirled around her head. And that's when it happened—and no, she didn't vomit…

She cried.

She wasn't a crier…but this was something she so desperately didn't want to deal with. She hated this feeling and everything that came with it. This was the last thing she wanted…

Honestly, if this sickening feeling went away in exchange for her to never complain about Alvin hardly ever being home, she'd make the deal. She wouldn't vent to her siblings and to him, if she could just get over this feeling. Of course she'd still vent about it to herself to the point of explosion, but she would never speak of it to anyone else just as long as this nauseating feeling would _go_ _away_.

She hated to be weak. She really did. But this was something she just didn't have control over. Yet another thing to add to her list of things that have gotten out of _her_ hands; she hardly had control over anything anymore. And it sucked. It sucked way bad.

Brittany brushed her bangs out of her face and shook her head. Why did she have to be such a crybaby about this? It wasn't that bad, now was it?

She opened her eyes only to find herself peering into an empty garbage can. A frown etched across her face as she scrunched her face in disgust. At least she wasn't looking into a bowl full of _nasty_ contaminated water…

Sucking in a sharp breath, she bit her bottom lip as a sickening flow rolled up her tongue. Oh gosh…NO! There was no way she was going to throw up! No! She just couldn't allow herself to go through that process…no…she just couldn't bear it…

Tears soon, instead of falling one by one like rain, began to stream down one after another like a flowing ocean.

This was the exact reason why she didn't let her sisters stay. She couldn't let them see her go through this. Sure, when they were kids, her sisters saw her cry, but they were older now…it's much more different compared to being a small child and an adult…

It was okay to cry when she was younger. Sure, it may have showed some weakness, but it was okay because children weren't supposed to even be that strong in mind yet. But now that she's an adult, she's at a point to where crying really _does _count; where crying really _does _show weakness. There were a lot of reasons why she loved to be an adult…but it still had its flaws…

Brittany tried to wipe away the tears, but she couldn't help but cry a little more, her voice hitching and escaping in small gasps. She felt so…ugly…so…miserable…so…lonely…it was horrible!

She's _never_ felt this way! Ever! Why now? Why in her worst and most vulnerable moment does she have to feel this way? Ugh…she really hated how things worked out…

Suddenly the sound of her cell buzzing in her purse, which was a good few feet away from her, echoed silently through her dark room. The only light that lit up her room was the soft moonlight that lit through the one window she had opened the curtains to earlier.

_Of all the times that someone chooses to call her, they decide to do it now?_

A heavy sigh rushed out her nose, and she pursed her lips as she turned to look at her purse where a small glow illuminated out of it.

"This better be worth my time," she grumbled as she crawled over to her bag.

As she reached her hand out to her bag, she tipped it over and grabbed her phone. Lying on her stomach, she slowly brought the phone to her view, the bright light causing her to squint her dilated eyes. Catching her reflection glisten for only a second off of the bright screen, she couldn't help but feel a heightened gratitude for the invention of cell phones…gosh, she looked _horrifying! _Her _makeup! _It was all smeared and so flawed now! Thank goodness she wouldn't actually have to talk face to face with whoever was calling…

When she saw who the caller was, she could only sigh as she answered and brought the phone up to her ears. Clearing her throat quietly, she spoke, "What?" Her face scrunched in disapproval of her voice. It sounded hoarse and scratchy—the _whole point_ of her clearing her throat was to _literally_ clear it so it sounded smooth and normal—that obviously didn't work for her…

"Brittany…?" came a soft voice.

"Hmm?" Brittany responded as she slowly tried to pick herself up so she was at least sitting upright.

"Look, um…I'm really sorry if this is, well you know, late…"—hearing this caused Brittany to look to her clock which read 12:30 A.M.—"but I-I felt extremely uneasy once Eleanor and I left you…"

She closed her eyes as she held her breath. Slowly coming to a stand, she opened her eyes and gradually made her way back over to her spot on the floor beside her bed. As she bent down as slow as she could and she reached her spot, all the energy suddenly rushed right out of her skin causing her to abruptly sit down and collapse her back against her bed. Her voice hitched in her throat, letting a small squeak escape her lips as a nauseating wave rushed from her stomach up to her head.

"I'm fine…Jeanette…" She breathed out as calmly, and steadily, as she possibly could. She pushed the sickening feeling aside as much as she could to avoid it, but it always rebounded back like a persistent black crow not wanting to leave its perch.

"Are you sure?" Jeanette pressed uneasily. "I…I called your home phone but…no one answered…so, th-that's why I called your, um, cell…"

More tears began to stream out of Brittany's melting ice blue eyes as she held back any evidence that would give her little sister knowledge of her situation. "It's…fine…" She held her breath in order to hush her crying voice.

A silence lingered on the other end for a while before Jeanette suddenly spoke softly, "Are you really going to be okay…?"

And she broke just like that. She couldn't hold it in any longer. It was too hard. Her whole body felt so compressed—she was running out of oxygen…

"No! I'm not!" she bawled_. She couldn't believe how weak she was getting…_ The thought only made her cry harder. "I'm not fine! In fact, I feel insanely sick! I feel so sick! I feel like I'm going to throw up, and I don't want to!" She pressed her free hand against her forehead and shut her eyes tight.

"You feel sick? W-would you like Simon and me to come over? I'm sure he can figure out what's wrong with you…" Jeanette rushed out, her voice panicky.

Brittany's eyes widened open. "NO-no-no-no-no—you don't—you don't have to! It's fine!" She paused. "I'm fine! Y-you don't have to come over…this is probably just from the, uh, food I ate at that one diner place we went to…"

The last thing she needed was for _Simon _and _Jeanette _to come over. No way. Simon would totally figure her out. He wouldn't have to even take a second glance to know what was going on…and for Jeanette? Well…she already had figured it out… When Brittany was in the limousine, she knew Jeanette had figured her out when she started questioning her. It was clear in her little sister's eyes that she knew…the way she looked at her…everything. But even though Jeanette knew, Brittany still wasn't going to let her over, or admit it to her.

"W-would you prefer Eleanor to come over instead?" Jeanette timidly asked. "I-I can call her…"

"NO!" Brittany's head spun in circles as she shook her head. "No—just, just don't tell anyone…" She sucked in a deep breath and swallowed, holding in the vomit that she felt intensify the sensitivity in her mouth.

"But…"

"No, please, Jeanette…just…just don't…" She whimpered softly. "Just…just go back to bed, okay? Promise you won't tell anyone or come over until I say the 'okay'?" She was _hating _this…every single second of it. Now she was begging, and she hardly ever has to beg. Brittany was in pure misery. It was a perfect misery that could destroy even the most perfect souls… "Promise?" she pressed.

"I…" A long silent pause tensed up, but Jeanette reluctantly ended with, "I promise…"

Brittany breathed in deeply. "Good. Now go to bed before Simon has a heart attack that you're up too late or whatever his reaction is when you're up late…" She wasn't sure where else to take the conversation. She couldn't stand to talk to her sister anymore. She felt so pathetic…especially considering the fact that she was the oldest, and that she was being such a crybaby. It wasn't supposed to be that way.

"Okay…" Jeanette quietly responded. "Good—" She stopped midsentence leaving an empty air for some time. But eventually she finished with, "Goodnight, Brittany…"

Hanging up, Brittany held still. Her face contorted in pain and she bit down on her tongue as the sickening feeling swayed throughout her mouth. She wasn't going to throw up…she wasn't going to throw up…

She could feel more tears stream down her face. Shouldn't she be running out of tears? Why weren't they stopping? How did she still have it in her to cry this much? Gosh, she shouldn't be crying this much! Why was she crying so much? Why was this so hard for her?

It was because she was in her own silence, wasn't it? She was always alone. That seemed to be an answer to a lot of her problems lately…

She couldn't take this anymore.

She just couldn't take this anymore.

The cell phone in Brittany's hand slipped out of her grasp and she clung to her head, continuing to fight off the lingering feeling that stung her tongue and mouth. Her head felt so light…

Her hearing suddenly began to zone out into her own heartbeat. The pounding of her own blood pumping throughout her body was all that she could hear for a moment while the world began to shake a little.

Brittany immediately closed her eyes as a frantic rush of waves flew through her stomach. Her adrenaline was kicking in…

Why was she getting so scared?

She bit her bottom lip and swallowed hard. A small outcry escaped her lips while trying her best to silence her voice. She sounded so fragile. She sounded like a child.

As the nauseating feeling intensified, her fears heightened.

She really needed to talk to someone. She needed to release the tension in her body. Talking to her little sister did help a little…but only a little. She needed someone to talk to the rest of the night—or at least stay on the phone with her until she could at _least _fall asleep... But she couldn't talk to her sisters…she couldn't talk to either of them. They weren't an option; she wasn't ready for them to know yet… Well, she really wasn't ready to talk to them about anything because if she started talking, she'd be admitting things she wasn't quite ready to believe herself.

Brittany slowly shook her head as she reopened her eyes. Breathing as calmly as she could, she reached for her phone and unlocked the screen. When she found her thumb suddenly ready to press the _1_ for speed dial, she knew she was going insane. She was _really_ losing it. She honestly wasn't going to speed dial for the contact on number _1 _now was she?

When her thumb finally pressed down on _1 _and her phone began to finally call, she held her crying breath as she brought her cell phone up to her ear.

She was actually going to suck up and call him. She couldn't handle it anymore. She needed to talk to someone…and if she was going to talk to anyone, it would be him because then she'd be able to regain some of her lost dignity and gain some strength back. She might as well talk to the cause of all of her problems…she really needed to get her life back together.

Her eyes closed as her ears began to be her focus.

She could feel the dried up streaks of salt water tighten against her skin each time she moved. And as much of her cheeks were dried, they were still just that much wet. She must've looked like a mess… At least there weren't any mirrors around her…the last thing she needed was to see her own reflection.

Suddenly the other end she was calling finally picked up. "Look who decided to call…"

She could practically see the smug grin plastered on his face, but despite the fact that his words framed his smile, they didn't go together this time. There was a small difference in his words.

"I knew you couldn't resist staying away from me."

She really wished she could somehow magically slip her hand through to the other end to his phone and rip the smugness out of his voice and his face…

Brittany pursed her lips as she held her tongue and urgently moved her composure to a position where her head was hanging over the waste bin beside her. Her face contorted as she tried to keep her cries to herself while the sickening feeling drained some of the last bits of her strength out of her. There was _no_ _way_ she was going to start the conversation with her _bawling _her heart out to him—to _Alvin. _Eww, heck _no!_

As she closed off her breath, a small whimper sneaked out of her throat. She bit her bottom lip and squeezed her eyes shut. _Great... _

Maybe he didn't hear it because his gloating was too loud for his ears?

"Brittany," Alvin slowly began. She could feel her muscles tighten throughout her body. "Is everything alright? Wait…isn't it like two in the morning over there?! What are you doing up so late? I thought you always believed in 'beauty sleep' or something?!"

Brittany breathed out as quietly as possible. There was no way she was going to let him know she was crying. "I'm," her voice cracked a little, "Alvin...I feel sick…" She gritted her teeth as she kept her cries in, but she couldn't hold back the tears_. Gosh, she was really going to get dehydrated or something from crying so much…_

"Wait…you feel 'sick'?" He questioned, completely clueless.

She nearly pressed her teeth up into their own gums with all the force she used as she continued to gnash her teeth. Why wasn't he taking this seriously? "No," she forced out. "I feel like…I feel like…" Her whole body began to shake. She was going to break. She couldn't hold her cries in for any much longer…

"Britt…?"

She finally broke. "I feel like I'm going to throw up!" she wailed out. "It's not ending! Alvin, it's not ending!—it's not going away! I don't know what I'm going to do! Where are you when I _actually_ for once in my life really _need_ _you?" _She cried harder. She couldn't believe she actually admitted something like that! She didn't need any more things to cry her heart out about! Getting emotional about vomiting was already bad enough.

"Wha—" But he fell silent for a few moments. "Is it something you ate that's making you feel this way?" His voice had softened down a notch. "Are you legitimately sick, or something? Talk to me, Brittany, talk to me."

"No," Brittany whined, wishing that the sickness _was_ caused by something as simple as food… "It's not that!" Her hand gripped more securely on her phone. Why did she call him? Why…?

"Alright, alright…uh…" He sounded rushed, like he was in a hurry for something. "Is it some sort of disorder or something?"

"NO! It's not that!" she cried. He was being so _stupid!_

"Okay, okay, um…do you even know what the problem is?"

She held her tongue stubbornly. She did know the answer. But she wasn't going to say it. She didn't want to be the one who said it. She wanted him to guess it so she wouldn't have to say it…

"Britt—oh _shoot!" _Alvin suddenly exclaimed._ "Brittany, baby—I have to go now—!" _he urgently spoke all in one rush. "I'm sorry, uh—here, I'll call you—right now I'm at the airport and my flight is leaving right now!—I'll call you, I promise, okay? It's just I have to leave right now—"

Brittany gripped tighter onto her cell phone. The words were practically on the tip of her tongue…no, they were already falling off of her tongue. "Alvin!—I'm pregnant! Okay!" she burst. "I'm pregnant! I'm pregnant with twins!"

No, no, no, no, no…she wasn't supposed to say anything…

She pressed the palm of her hand against her forehead. She let her stress get the best of her. She was losing her head…

The other line suddenly went silent.

"Wait—what?" His voice was an airy wisp.

She shook her head. She wasn't going to go through with this. She couldn't bear to…

"Wait, Brittany—"

"You have a flight to catch, Alvin," Brittany interrupted coldly, "why don't you go catch it because I've already hit rock bottom."

She pulled her cell away from her, his distant voice getting cut off as soon as she hit _End._

Her heart was aching so much. What was she doing? Well, that answer should've been obvious: She was doing what was best for herself…right? Because if she was truly making the right choice she should totally be hurting this much, right? _Wrong._

Did her heart consume too much? Did her heart finally get the point to where it had to explode and release all that she had gained? Was she letting Alvin go…?

Brittany squeezed her eyes shut as a new flash of tears began to stream down her face. She tried to hush her loud cries as she clung onto her cell phone, hugging it close to her chest. What was she doing? Did she even know what she was doing anymore?

As a new sickening wave rushed over her like a tidal wave, she found herself suddenly clinging onto the waste bin, her phone dropping out of her hand in the process. She choked out her tears as she coughed into the empty bin, feeling more pressure flow into her mouth to expulse her insides.

She couldn't think about her troubles with him for the moment…what she needed to worry about at the moment was herself. There was too much for her to think about all at once…she couldn't handle it all. She wasn't that strong anymore. She couldn't handle him anymore.

First things first: She needed to get over this revolting feeling; or at least survive it through the night…

She slowly breathed in and out as her mind drifted away from her heart and to her stomach. She needed to stay strong somehow…even though she was completely drained, she'd enforce herself to be tough. She wasn't going to hurl. No…she most definitely wasn't.

And with that thought stuck on her mind, she repeatedly told herself the same words over and over again, her voice soft and small. Weak…

"You're not going to throw up…you're not going to throw up…you're not going to throw up…"

* * *

**Boom. Just dropped a buttload of words on all of you.**

**This chapter was (way) longer than what I was expecting...but, I hope you guys all liked it!**

**And dang! You guuuyysss! I'm trying to be all "smart" and "sneaky" with my last chapter, but you've all practically figured it out - and it's just like okay, yeah, okay - but, I guess it was obvious in some ways so...I don't know why I even bothered. ;D**

**I did an excess amount of research on pregnancy with twins and such; in fact, I think I know more than what I really needed to know! But it's all good. ;) So I'm hoping that I've got the whole "pregnancy" stuff correct, and everyone really is different when they're in the process, so...you tell me. **

**Thanks so much for reading! Please review and tell me what you think! :D**


	7. Recolored Red

When morning came, and the lighting in the bedroom was a low dim sunlight, Brittany jerked in her position curled up on the floor. Moaning, she came to from her sleep and became aware of her state.

She squeezed her closed eyes tighter as she slowly rolled over onto her back and began to rub her eyes. She could feel the dried remains of her tears rusting under her eyes. Gosh, she felt so, so, SO _gross! _Rubbing her temples, she grabbed the bed next to her for support as she managed to come to an upright position. When she cracked open her eyes, the first thing she did was check her surroundings.

Frankly, Brittany could hardly remember anything that happened last night. All she remembered was that she felt miserable, and sick, and absolutely wretched; in other words, she felt horrid. And to put her situation in more humbler words, how she felt wasn't the best feeling ever…

As she continued to scan her surroundings, her gaze quickly dropped down to the floor. If she had been sleeping on her own stomach insides, she would hurl. And obviously that wouldn't help her at all because her mood from feeling gross would evolve into a deeper feeling of feeling _gross. _That was the last thing she needed.

Brittany sighed in relief when she found the floor spotless. Immediately afterwards, though, she checked the waste bin not too far from her. When she found that that was empty, she nearly jumped for joy!—but didn't because she was afraid if she did any movement she'd feel a swing of nausea hit her…and she was afraid that it'd hit her hard. She didn't feel sick at the moment—thankfully—but she knew that there was still more to come. She knew very well that last night wasn't a "once in a lifetime" type of thing. She was pregnant, and she just had to deal with it. Feeling morning sickness was just the price she would have to pay.

It took her this long, since the moment she found out she was carrying two twins, to actually accept that as an actual fact. She could barely utter the simple word _pregnant _when she first found out; and even now, she still has a hard time saying it. That single word didn't settle on her tongue right. It didn't settle in her mind right, and it didn't settle with her situation right. What more could possibly be expected from her? She was already having an emotional crisis with herself and her relationship with Alvin was pretty much going up in flames…

The last week of this past December, she had an appointment scheduled to see the doctor. And no, she didn't schedule this appointment because she got sick or anything…she simply scheduled it because she was getting her yearly checkup done; and since she always gets a pregnancy test done every time for just "precautions," she wasn't expecting anything out of it. Nothing big and nothing meant to be made a big deal out of. Clearly, though, the tables were turning on her and her fate had just so happened to cross her luck.

She should be feeling lucky, shouldn't she? Well, it wasn't like she didn't want to have twins because she really did…she was actually, in all honestly, excited to be pregnant. But considering her situation with Alvin at the moment, it was kind of hard to show her excitement when she clearly _wasn't_ happy. And as much as she loved the fact that she would be a mother, she just didn't want to have to go through the process that it took to be pregnant. At least she didn't want to have to go through it alone…and true, she could always ask for her sisters' company, or ask for Karl's company, or get herself some nanny to take care of her…but she didn't _want_ that…

Shaking her head, Brittany slowly began to stand. If there was anything she needed to do, or at least _worry _about other than sit around in her own pity waiting for the next dreadful wave of nausea, then her concern would be about her hygiene. She felt disgusting.

"Uh, Miss Brittany?" Karl called, knocking on the door before slowly opening it. Peaking his head in cautiously, he fully stepped his body in and cleared his throat. "Are you…feeling well this morning? Is there anything you would like me to do?"

"You can help me stand…" Brittany grumbled as she struggled to straighten her legs.

"Ah, right, my apologies for not noticing and taking action to assist you," her butler bowed, before he quickly made his way over to her and allowed her to grab his arm for support.

Brittany pursed her lips and shook her head. "Oh, no, I don't blame you—I wouldn't want to come near me if I were you—I probably look as if I've come back from the dead or something…ha! Or worse, I probably actually look like I could be on set for some _crazy_ zombie movie! Wouldn't that just be _grand_," she sneered, finally coming to a full stand.

"It would be a daring sight, I might say, but it would make me think of you no less, Miss Brittany." Karl responded politely as he stepped away to give her space.

"Too bad Alvin can't be as nice as you," Brittany snorted. "You should teach him some of your insanely kind skills…he needs it," she huffed as she slowly stretched her arms out.

"I think the Mister of this house does try…and it is quite an admirable trait for someone of his blood," Karl concluded patiently.

Rolling her eyes, Brittany snickered, "I think you're giving him too much slack…" But she then quickly shook her head. "We don't really need to talk about that jerk at the moment. That's the last thing I want to do right now," she muttered as she held her hand up to her forehead.

"As you wish," Karl nodded his head, placing his hands behind his back. "So, I assume there is nothing you need of me to do, then?"

Brittany shook her head, "No…you can just go chill and relax or whatever it is that you do…"

Her butler bowed and began to leave, but before he could walk out the door, Brittany called, "Hey, um…if anyone comes knocking at the door, don't answer it, okay? Especially if it's one of my sisters—or worse, their husbands—just don't answer it—pretend like no one's home, okay?" The last thing she needed was to have her sisters or any Seville brother lingering around her all day long asking a stampede of annoying questions she didn't want to answer or bother listening to. As much as she loved them, she didn't love every single word that came flying out of their mouths.

Karl who was now facing her, standing in the doorway nodded his head. "Yes, Miss Brittany…" And with that said, he left.

Staying frozen, Brittany waited for a few seconds to pass by before she skipped lightly to the door. As she peaked her head out and checked the hallway, she quickly shut the door softly before she turned around and examined her room. She needed to get rid of any proof that would show something was wrong with her. She could _not _stay hidden forever…especially from her sisters. She would have to let _somebody _in sometime soon…

As her cold ice blue gaze scanned her room, she found that nothing seemed that out of place: Alvin's dartboard was still hanging where the clock should've been hanging, all the photos that had a single trace of Alvin was flipped or turned down, her purse was tipped over on the ground along with everything that was inside of it messily scattered out, the waste bin was right next to her bed instead of up against the wall…

Brittany frowned. There was one thing she was forgetting…

Slowly she walked away from the door and out into the open to stare at herself in her vanity mirror across the room from her. Oh, how lovely: her mascara was melting beneath her eyes like she was some scary crying china doll, her foundation and blush no longer smoothly milked her skin, her hair—ugh, eww, no—she didn't even want to think about that…and not to mention her clothes! They were all wrinkled…

She looked _horrible_…

Who was she kidding? Everything in her bedroom looked out of place! _She _HERSELF looked out of place! In fact, she looked the worst. And that just made things worse for her; it definitely didn't make her feel any happier than she already was…ha, oh wait—who said that she was happy?—because she clearly _wasn't…_

Ripping her gaze away, she turned her back to the mirror. _She needed to get ahold of herself._

With that thought in mind, Brittany got down to business. She was going to get her life back together. And even though she's probably told herself this a thousand times, then this would be her one thousand and oneth time. She was a fighter. What more _could _she tell herself? Until she found a way to get what she wanted to come true, she wouldn't stop telling herself the only comfort she could bear to give herself.

Sighing, she ran her fingers through her hair. She might as well take advantage of the time she wouldn't be feeling sick to her stomach. She still felt plenty of energy too…the doctor had told her she'd probably start feeling fatigue and dead tired and that it was okay and that she simply would have to get tons of rest… Yeah, she wasn't too thrilled about that. She did not, did not, _did_ _not _want to become a lazy old slug lounging around! That'd make her feel even more disgusted with herself, and who knows how much weight she'd gain. She wasn't worried about the baby fat she'd get because that was something she already had sucked up to—it was gaining the extra unnecessary fat, she would have to work off, that bothered her.

If she was lucky, she'd still look like a model and get her "normal" body back once she gave birth. If she wasn't so lucky, well…she may sadly have to get a new closet…although she really hoped not because some of the new clothing she'd just bought looked _super _cute on her…

Slowly walking over to the wall, Brittany ripped Alvin's photograph off from the dartboard and crumpled the photo as she tossed it over to the waste bin. Staring at the red and black dartboard, she shook her head with a scowl and took it down, replacing the empty space with the ivory clock. Turning around, she marched over to her tipped over bag and collected everything that had spilled out of it back into it (She didn't realize so many things had fallen out—she was just trying to get her cell phone…). Immediately once she had organized her purse, she walked over to the waste bin and shoved it back up against the wall. As she stepped back, her foot kicked something.

When she turned around and scanned the ground, she could only grimace. What she had kicked was the crumpled up picture…

Pursing her lips, she shook her head as her hands ran through her hair and she held her head. Peering up, she scanned her room once more. Practically every single photo was faced down or turned away…

No. She wasn't even going to bother facing each photo so they would show. No…she was done. Seeing his face was the last thing she needed.

Here's what she was going to do: she was going to clean herself up like a normal civilized girl who had no boy problems, and then when she would give another try at staring herself in the mirror, she would smile—like, actually smile to herself with a _real_, _genuine,_ _actual_ smile. And then she'd cut the happiness crap and dress herself properly into something she'd be fine throwing up in. She wasn't sure if her morning sickness would actually be enough to make her purge, but either way, no matter how much she really didn't want to vomit, she may just have to because that was something that came with pregnancy; and the only way she'd be able to slightly accept barfing (even though she'd never be able to accept doing something so _disgusting_) is for her to be wearing something she didn't care about getting dirty.

With the objectives in mind, Brittany marched over to the door in the far corner that lead to the bathroom, next to her vanity mirror, and walked in. As she walked in though, she could feel a light dizziness shadowing over her head. Immediately she closed her eyes in attempt to shut the faintness out. She needed to work quickly. There was no way she was going to allow herself to feel sick and tired _now; _at least not until she had taken a shower first…

Brittany soon began to strip her clothing off blindly before she hopped in the shower.

* * *

As Brittany rummaged through her closet, throwing clothing here and there from off the hangers, she grunted to herself, "There's nothing to _wear!_" She went over to the drawers and picked through each shirt. She was already wearing shorts…all she needed was a shirt she didn't _care_ about… Too bad she'd already thrown out all of her old clothing.

As she continued to pick through each of her shirts, randomly picking out the ones she thought would be okay to wear only to turn them down because she couldn't _bear_ the thought of getting it dirty, she soon had to move on to another drawer, already gone through every shirt that had been neatly folded in the one before.

When Brittany had finally pulled out a red plaid button up shirt after she had moved on to what felt like the millionth drawer, but really was only her fifth, she could only stare at the shirt she now held up. She'd seen this shirt before…but she couldn't quite remember when or where she'd gotten it at…

Simply shrugging her shoulders, she slid the shirt over her head. Stretching her arms out, she slowly stood as she peered down at her body and walked in front of a mirror. Peering up at the mirror, her face scrunched in confusion. _Why did she buy this shirt? _She didn't even buy this shirt in the right size? The plaid shirt was too big for her—why did she buy a shirt that was too big for her? Since when did she buy this shirt? She could almost pull this shirt off as a mini _dress _or something…

Frowning, she smelled the shirt. How long was this shirt in that drawer? It definitely didn't have her signature scent on it. Had she somehow not seen this shirt when she was throwing out her old clothing?

_Whatever_. This shirt worked out for her; now her problems of finding a shirt were over.

Pursing her lips as she began to roll up the sleeves of her red shirt, she marched out of her walk in closet that was now covered in scattered blurs of all sorts of colors (mostly pinks). When she walked out, the bright white lights that lit up the large closet flickered off automatically a few seconds later she had left.

Swallowing, she hesitantly began to walk over to her bed and straighten the bed covers. She suddenly felt so tired…she felt as though all of her energy had just drained right out of her in the few simple steps she took just to get to her bed…

Brittany sucked in a deep breath as she closed her eyes and leaned both her hands against the bed. She was going to be sleeping a lot from now on, wasn't she? Ugh…she was going to get so _lazy_…

Suddenly a knocking came at her door. When Brittany opened her eyes and looked over, she found her butler standing in her doorway, hand on the doorknob.

"What?" she grumbled.

"I apologize to be disturbing you, Miss Brittany, but it seems as though your sisters are quite persistent with knocking on the door and ringing the doorbell." Hearing this caused Brittany to sigh. She couldn't deal with them at the moment. She'd probably pass out by just answering the door…

Karl continued, "Would you like me to answer? Or simply still ignore them?"

Brittany shook her head. "I told Jeanette to not _tell!—_or bother coming over!" she wailed weakly, pushing her hands off of her bed. She marched over to her butler and walked past him as her voice trailed, "I'll handle it—just don't worry about it…"

"Would you like me to assist you with anything?" Karl's voice called after her.

She shook her head. "No, no—I'm fine—you don't have to do any—actually, you can put Alvin's dartboard back where it belongs, you'll find it," she got to the staircase and thought for a second, "you'll find it by the doorway leaning against the wall…" And with that said, she began to head down the staircase. And that's when she heard repetitive knocking coming at her door.

"_Brittany, I know you're in there—please let us in! We can help you! Just let us help you—and look, I'm sorry if we're the last people you want to see—Jeanette's sorry for telling but she was only doing it for the greater good! Please, Brittany, just answer the door and let us help!" _Eleanor's voice pushed through the door.

As Brittany's legs flopped down each step, barely holding her up, her gaze that was focused on her footing, moved up to the doors. When she finally reached the bottom of the staircase, she slowly walked over to the double doors. She could see two blurs through the glass, and it was obvious to her that the one on the right was Jeanette whereas the one on the left was Eleanor.

_"Brittany…please answer…I'm sorry for telling but this is something important…"_

Brittany shook her head slowly.

"What are you girls doing here?" her voice hushed itself as she found herself standing in the center of the two shut doors. Using her voice scared her—she felt that if she uttered one loud word, she'd collapse out of life.

She exhaled softly as her hand gently touched the right door handle for only a moment before it slowly drifted off and away as her legs began to carry her over to the front room next door. She specifically watched her feet step on only the red of the white and red checkered tiles in the main entrance. When her feet made the transition to pure white floors, she walked a little further before collapsing her body onto the white sofa lined up against the wall.

She couldn't answer the door. She wasn't ready to talk, and she felt so fatigue and fragile. She felt as though she could collapse any minute. She felt as though she could break any second…

Curling up on the couch, Brittany held her hands close to her chest as she listened to her sisters' calls.

_"Brittany, I saw you! I know you're in there! Please! Just answer the door! If you want, we'll only talk for a second and after that we'll leave! Please! We just need to see that you're okay!"_

They would eventually leave. Brittany knew that…but she didn't know how long it would be. She really would've let them in…she really hated to be alone…but she just couldn't let them in yet. No…not yet…she wasn't ready.

Slowly, she brought her left hand out in front of her gaze as she examined the glistening ring on her ring finger. The bright light that shined through the windows of the white living room she was in really made the ring stand out…it made everything that the ring was supposed to represent stand out. She really shouldn't be alone…she did have someone. But that someone just wasn't being there for her. Closing her eyes that were now beginning to glaze over, her right hand slipped the ring off of her finger.

Maybe she should just let him go…it'd make life a lot easier for the both of them…

He'd be free…she'd be free...

Gosh, why was this so hard?

Brittany pursed her lips as she held onto the ring. She needed to make a choice. She could let him go, or keep holding on.

Exhaling as her body relaxed more into her position, her mind slowly began to drift away from her thoughts, from him, and from her life.

_Maybe she was having a really bad nightmare and everything that was happening now was all a dream… Or maybe she hit her head and was suffering in a really bad comma… Maybe she had been hallucinating her whole life… Maybe Alvin would never come back… Maybe everything was all a stupid, big fat lie… Maybe she should just get used to the silence… Maybe she should just accept the fact that all she would ever hear from now on were the sounds of silence…the sounds of her loneliness…the sounds of her single heartbeat…and the sounds of her love's death…_

_He was no longer in picture now…was he…?_

_Was it her that was letting go of him, or the other way around…?_

_Who was it that was messing with her heart…?_

_Herself…?_

_Who was she letting go…?_

_Maybe it wasn't him…maybe it was herself…_

_Because she knew that she would never…ever…let him go…she could never…she knew herself…and she knew that she was too stubborn to let him go…but what about herself….?_

_She might just let herself go…_

_After all…who had she really been focusing on this whole time…?_

_As much as she tried to make the main attraction herself….it just never was herself she had been focusing on…it never was…._

_She was losing herself…she'd been losing herself this whole entire time…._

_It was only a matter of time now…_

_She'd soon be gone…_

_Long gone…._

_Dead._

When her breath slowly melted down into a silent low breathing of air, her hearing finally drowned out the only sounds that were playing as her lullaby: the sounds of her sisters' pleading shouts and the silence of her beating heart…

* * *

It was dark. Pitch black. That was all she could see behind her eyelids.

Rolling over, half expecting herself to fall off the couch she was on, Brittany snapped her eyes open. What was she doing?

Immediately sitting upright, she found that she had a lot more room than she had expected…in fact, she wasn't even _close _to the edge.

Blinking her ice blue eyes, Brittany scanned her surroundings, her loose hair softly swaying with each movement her head made. Everything was so dark. The shadows that surrounded her loomed lazily in the dim dark lights of the room. Her delicate hands gripped onto the blanket that was atop of her.

She froze.

Since when did she have a blanket on top of her?

Brittany did a double take of her surroundings.

Wait…she was in her bedroom…?

Her hands felt around her. She was on her bed.

She could've sworn she was sleeping in the living room…had she been dreaming that? Had she been dreaming that she went downstairs? Had she been dreaming her sisters' voices? Did she dream taking off her ring…?

She passed out, didn't she?

Heaving out a sigh, Brittany self-consciously brought her right hand over to feel her ring. As her fingers loomed around her slim finger next door to her pinky, she didn't feel what she was feeling for. Immediately her eyes snapped down to her hands. Her ring…she wasn't wearing it.

Her eyebrows knitted together as her gaze froze. Either she lost her ring and she just never noticed its absence, or she really was downstairs in her living room…

Brittany crawled off of her bed swiftly and quickly paced herself as she swiftly opened the closed door to her bedroom and breezed out into the dark hallways. Feeling the walls as her guidance, her hands soon found its way to the railing of the staircase.

For some odd reason her throat felt tight. She was panicking… Why was she panicking over a _ring? _Especially a ring that was from Alvin?

She gritted her teeth as she soon found herself lightly stepping down the stairs in quick steps. She bit her tongue as her eyes began to heat up. _She was crazy…_

When she made it to the checkered floors, her feet bounded towards the white living room. As soon as she entered into the white room, that was when she finally noticed how _dark _it actually was. The two windows that revealed the gleaming night blue sky shadowed the room in its dark light. How long had she been sleeping? She could've sworn it was broad daylight just barely…

Shaking her head, she crouched down to the floor and ran her fingers through the floor. When she felt or saw nothing, she moved her hands to the couch she had, or at least thought, she'd been sleeping on before she somehow made her way back to her room. She figured she either woke up and carried herself up to her room and had totally blacked out after that, or her butler had a servant or someone carry her back up to her room (for Karl was frail and old…his arms would probably break with her weight…even though she didn't weigh _that _much).

Brittany controlled her breathing when she found nothing. Did she misplace her ring somewhere? No, no…she'd remember where she would've put it.

Sighing, she ran her fingers through her hair as she closed her eyes, allowing her stress to completely cover her. She really shouldn't care that much…she really shouldn't worry that much…

Slowly, she lifted herself, shaking her head, her right hand running through her hair. Turning around, she stepped slowly back up the stairs. She didn't care. Nope. She wasn't freaking out over a stupid ring...it wasn't like that _ring_ was her _favorite_ anyway…

Closing her eyes, she lightly shook her head with a small snicker as she made it to the top of the stairs. As she moved blindly down the dark hallway, she crossed her left arm over her stomach as her right hand went up to her mouth. What was she thinking? She really didn't need that ring anymore anyway. Sooner or later she would've disposed of it, right? Normally she's always so sure of herself…ugh… Great. Another thing that was wrong with her. Now she was _unsure _of everything…

She pursed her lips as she began to turn into her room.

"Brittany..."

Brittany immediately shrieked at the sudden voice; it was so _loud_…

Jumping back, Brittany hit against something and shrieked once again at the sudden touch, immediately turning around to face what she had run into, her legs and feet struggling to carry her backwards and away, back down the dark hall.

Suddenly she tripped over her feet and fell backwards, but she continued to scoot herself away. When she had scooted next to a small white table that held a delicate vase, she used the small table for support to stand.

As she stood, the lights flickered on.

What she saw get revealed made her heart stop.

Instantly she crossed her arms over her stomach and screeched, "What are _you _doing here?"

Alvin, who was leaning against the white painted walls right next to where the light switch was, clicked his tongue as he stared at her with his wandering sky blue eyes. He shook his head slowly.

Brittany could only tighten her crossed arms as she gripped her hands on her loose shirt. She looked fat…oh gosh…she looked _fat. _She was really fat… _What was he doing here?_

Alvin pushed himself off the wall as he slowly stepped towards her causing her to take a step back. He froze seeing this and chuckled under his breath, "You look as if you've seen a ghost…"

This only made Brittany glare at him and tighten her crossed arms. "Because I am seeing a _ghost!" _Her arms flailed up, but immediately placed itself back across her stomach—hopefully he didn't notice. "What do you want, Alvin?!"

"Oh, Britt—you really don't need to play this game with me," Alvin shook his head as he casually put his hands in his pockets and flashed her a half smile as he took a few steps closer. "You know I'll win." When he saw her face not altering one bit, he flailed his arms up and stated, "You know we've been through this situation before! And you know how it ends…"

She bit her tongue feeling her eyes heat up; she gripped her hands back onto her shirt. "Yeah, but this is different!"

"What makes this different? I'm back, aren't I?" He took a few steps closer, but again, she took a few steps back.

Her hands gripped tighter on her shirt and she shook her head. "Yeah, you are back! You _are_ back, Alvin! But that doesn't make up for all the time you were _gone!"_

_ "Brittany…" _Alvin gritted. "Look—I'm sorry!—okay? I'm so sorry…but there's nothing I can do to bring back time! You know that!" He ran his fingers through his hair out of stress.

"And you know—no, you _knew _that, too!" Brittany retorted, squeezing her arms tighter. "You OBVIOUSLY know that lost time can never be taken back! So why did you let so much go? Is it really that hard to take a simple _week _off of your worldwide tours?"

"What, do you expect me to quit singing?!" He stared at her firmly.

"_No—I never said THAT!_" she shot, too, staring at him as firmly as she could with her own gaze. "Look, I know you love singing—okay? I love it, too! But I'm starting to think you're loving singing a little too much!" Her voice began to fade in volume. "What about _me_, Alvin?" She couldn't stand to look at him anymore. She had to rip her gaze away; instead of looking at him, she looked down at herself. "You can call me selfish all you want," she muttered, "but this really isn't _me _being selfish."

As she continued to stare down at herself, Alvin suddenly asked, "Hey…is that my shirt? I've been looking for that everywhere!"

Brittany's head snapped up confused and her gaze followed Alvin's gaze to the plaid shirt wore. Immediately her eyes widened in horror and she asked him terrified, "This is your _shirt?!_"

Her tightly crossed arms and tightly gripped hands freed themselves and she brought the collar of the shirt up to her nose. As she smelled the shirt, her eyes widened even more. _No wonder the shirt didn't smell like her! _She knew the shirt smelled so familiar… How did she NOT make the connections of the scent of the shirt to Alvin?

Her ice cold blue eyes snapped up to Alvin. "Oh, my gosh! This is your _shirt!" _

Alvin simply stated with a smirk, "Yeah."

Brittany gawked in pure disbelief. She had to get this shirt off. "This is your shirt…oh gosh…this is your shirt…" Her horrified eyes glanced down at the red button up shirt. "I've got to get this off!" she shrieked, beginning to button down the shirt. But her fingers soon froze when her mind began to progress what she was doing and the situation she was in.

Just kidding. She now didn't want to take this shirt off…because since it was Alvin's shirt, the more reason it wouldn't matter if she were to randomly _vomit_. Also, she was fat—did she really want to even _go_ there?

Pursing her light pink lips, she glimpsed up at Alvin who had his eyebrows raised and his arms crossed. Quickly glancing down at her fingers that were still frozen, she immediately crossed her arms tightly across her stomach and grimaced at Alvin.

Was he trying to change the subject? He better not be…

"Okay…" Alvin scratched the back of his neck. "We clearly have some making up to do…"

Brittany gritted her teeth. "_Oh really…?_"

Alvin sighed. "Look, Britt, I told you I was sorry, okay?"

"Okay, yeah, I know you told me that—but how is that supposed to fix everything? Did you even _listen_ to anything that I ever said to you while you were gone?!" she snapped. "You obviously didn't because you _would've_ come back sooner!" Her eyes began to heat up again. She peeled her gaze away when she realized how disfigured her view was getting.

Biting her bottom lip, her face contorted as she tried her best to not cry.

When a long gap of silence filled the air for some time, Brittany soon caught Alvin moving closer to her, only causing her to step back away from him some more, but this time, she ran out of room; she'd walked herself into the wall. _Great…_

All she wanted to do was runaway. She didn't want to do this. Why was she making this so hard? Why didn't she just accept his apology? Just watch, she was going to say something wrong and he was going to leave…

Her gaze began to blur up quicker this time. What was _wrong_ with her? She wasn't going to cry now, was she? That was the last thing she wanted to do…she didn't want to cry…at least not in front of him.

Before she knew it, or could have the chance to escape, Alvin had already caged her in between his arms and the wall.

"Do you really think I haven't been listening?" he asked sternly, yet softly.

Brittany could only grip onto the shirt she wore and keep her gaze down.

Her lips were sealed.

"_Dang it, Brittany! Answer me!" _He banged his hand against the wall. And she was told that _she_ had temper problems…?

Closing her eyes, Brittany bit her bottom lip as she felt a tear fall. She couldn't even utter a single word…what was wrong with her? She always had _something _to say back. Now she was speechless. She slowly opened her eyes and stared down.

Suddenly his hand gently lifted her chin up and he sighed, dropping his hand but placing it back up against the wall.

Sucking in a deep breath, Alvin finally spoke, "Listening to you was the hardest thing for me to do…" He shook his head. "I listened to everything you ever said, Brittany…which is why I'm here…I'm here for you, okay? And…" He grunted out a sigh. "You have to _promise_ to not tell anyone this…because I'm actually going to suck up my pride and say: that l didn't come back that last time in November just because I _forgot_ something or whatever my lame excuse was…" He then grumbled under his breath, "I can't believe I'm going to say this…" He pursed his lips when he saw her not moving or bothering to look up at him. Heaving out a sigh, he said all in one big rush, "I came back because I was missing you, okay?" He ran a hand through his hair and added, "When you called me the other day, I was in a hurry to catch a flight, remember? Well, flash news: I was on my way back here. There, I said it."

His sky blue eyes watched her, hoping to get some reaction. But when he got nothing after some time, he dropped his left arm and softly spoke, "You're free to go…"

Brittany's hands gripped tighter onto the shirt she wore. Slowly, she lifted her gaze and stared at him. His jaw muscles had tightened, and he was stubbornly looking away. She felt tempted to somehow comfort him…but she kept her ground.

She could leave, or she could stay. There was only one thing she wanted…but was her choice right?

If someone, as _egotistical_ and _arrogant_ as the jerk standing in front of her, could actually suck up his own _precious_ pride to prove something, then she could most definitely suck up her own pride to do the one thing she's wanted to do since she saw him.

Her choice was right. After all, she _was_ perfect. Whatever made her _doubt_ herself?

She pursed her lips and grumbled, "I _hate _you Seville…" And with that said, she ripped her hands away from herself and jumped up onto him, pressing her lips to his.

He immediately responded with his lips and hands moving with her as they got closer.

She wasn't feeling tired, or even a single hint of sickness…and she wasn't feeling weak anymore…

She was happy…she was _genuinely_ happy.

Who knew Alvin was the cure to everything she was losing…which that just sounded weird to her…but he really made that big of a difference in her life.

As she clung onto him, holding him close to her lips, she eventually found her back pressed up against the wall. When their lips that synced so perfectly together had broken apart, their breathing barely getting heavy, Alvin leaned his head against hers.

"Give me your hand, Brittany," he gently spoke.

"What? What one?" she complained, her hands sliding down from his neck and to his chest.

He snickered taking her left hand. "What do you mean 'what one?' The only one that's missing something, _duh_, what else?" he smirked, sliding a shimmering ring onto the belonging finger of her left hand. Leaning his lips to her ears, he murmured, "Next time, Britt, don't lose it."

She scoffed, pushing him back, "Hey, you were the one that _stole _it from me! Don't you _dare _put the blame on—"

But she couldn't finish because he had quickly pressed his lips to her own, before gently kissing her forehead.

He stared at her for what felt like the longest time.

"By the way," he finally spoke, almost hesitantly. "Were you…serious….over the phone…?"

She blinked, staring her eyes into his. "Excuse me?" If she was recalling right, everything she spoke over the phone she was being serious…

"Well—is it true?—I mean, are you…are you…" The words were practically hanging by a thread at the tip of his tongue. She could only stare at him, still confused. Where was he getting at…?

As she stared at him, he looked away almost…_shyly?_

Okay, something was wrong with him.

That's when it hit her.

"You can't tell?" she half shouted, mostly out of surprise. He was _joking._

He flickered his sky blue eyes back to her. "I can't tell? Yeah, uh, if you could _elaborate _more on that, it'd be nice…"

She blinked again at him. "Don't I look _fat?_"

His eyebrows furrowed for merely a split-second before he cocked one eyebrow up. "Is that why you kept crossing your arms?" he laughed, shaking his head while she could only scowl at him. What else did he _expect_ her to _do?_ If she looked fat, she _certainly_ didn't want to show it!

"You look perfectly fine—I couldn't tell, clearly…" He huffed.

"Oh," was all she could say.

"I've got it!" He suddenly exclaimed. She could only stare. "Their names are Al and Alvin Jr.! There! I'm a genius! They're perfect! You said it was twins, right?"

She gawked at him and scoffed, "What makes you think they're _boys?_"

He shrugged, "I'm psychic, Britt, deal with it."

"Excuse me?" She crossed her arms.

"Okay, _fine—IF _I am wrong, then we'll just name them…Britt and Brittany Jr.?" He flashed her his charming half smile.

"What? No! If they're girls, we're going to name them _decent _names—and don't get me wrong, Alvin—Brittany is the most _decent_ and most glamorous name there is out there in this world, but no. Not until we see the twin's faces, we're not naming them."

He rolled his eyes, but pushed, "If they're boys, I get to name them—promise?"

She pursed her lips. "Maybe…"

"It's a promise!" he sealed.

"What?!" she began to retort. "I didn't say—"

But he hushed her. "I know you love me and that you'll most likely let me have my way. So don't even try."

She could only glare. _As if…._

"Oh, and," he began casually, "I told you I'd win."

She gave him a look and punched his chest. "Shut up! You know—"

He hushed her again, laughing lightly while he shook his head and pressed his lips to hers, getting their mouths moving.

Slowly as time went on by, her hands couldn't keep to herself and she found herself holding him close.

She really did hate him. But…she obviously loved him more and that was the only thing keeping her from hurting him.

* * *

_It was the sound of him coming home, and the sound of his walk, and the sound of his voice that kept telling her how much he loved her. It was the sounds of everything he would ever say, sing, and do for her. The sounds of him being near were the sounds of his love. And that was all the silence had taken away from her. She wasn't this used to having him always gone._

_He never liked to show how much he really cared…but when he did show it, he'd make it big. It was often him who followed her around—and he never got why being right by her side heightened his pride. Most of his songs often were about her, and just the mere thought of her got him going crazy—both good and bad ways. This time, for sure, he was going to keep her close. The sound of their love was the music he always found himself wanting to hit replay on._

_They perfected each other._

_It was only him in her world, and only her in his world._

_It was only a matter of time until they found their way back to each other through the echoes of each other's calls when they were separated…_

* * *

_The End_

* * *

**AHHH! Guys! I'm dying! This chapter! Kill me! OH I am seriously dying! The ending! Oh my gosh! I can barely read this! I just can't do graphic writing like this! I lose my mind! I don't know why! I hope your imaginations are much more creative than my writing is at some parts... ;P **

**I'm so sorry - I know I really should've been mean and split this chapter into two chapters leaving you people at some cliffhanger. I really could've and probably should've done that...but I needed this story to be seven chapters long specifically. I felt like being dumb and cheesy by putting a "secret" word in the chapter titles; and I calculated how long this story would be wrong because I always overwrite things. Whenever I plan on writing at least 3,000 words max, I do double or triple. It's ridiculous. It happens every time. So...sorry...? And if you think I ended this to quickly, sorry about that too...**

**I really hoped you guys weren't too disappointed with this ending though...I tried not to be cheesy, but...eh...I don't know...**

**THANK YOU! To all of you who read this story, you're awesome. To all of you who made my day by reviewing, rock out; you guys are way to sweet and amazing. I love you all! You guys are so great!**

**Review and thanks again! :D**


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